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Published: June 22nd 2007
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mashed potatoes
photo taken by alidadas (flickr) The family ate in silence. They always ate in silence. This was not because of any family rule, or pious ritual. The family ate in silence because they had nothing to say to each other. The husband had grown tired of his efforts at daily small talk, and knew that no one at the table gave a shit that the toilets had flooded at work, and that once again, he was given the responsibility to clean it up. After dinner he would return to his own devices; organizing his collection of antique toy cars, polishing his 79 Cordoba, and after the family went to bed he would begin his nightly ritual: escaping to the basement to iron his clothes for work while watching his worn VHS copy of Red Shoe Diaries. But for now he shovelled mushy peas into his mouth at an unnatural pace.
As she stared down at her mashed potatoes his youngest daughter Brianna could think of nothing but the marriage certificate she had ripped out of the family Bible earlier that week. She had taken the paper to her grade three class and proudly written the name of a boy she desired and her own name in respective spots for the bride and groom. She then meticulously forged the signature of a minister at her church, and showed the certificate to a small group of friends during recess. Brianna knew the boy didn’t like her, and that he held a deep-seeded belief that all girls had cooties. However, once he found out that he was legally married to her, he would have no choice but to consummate the marriage with a kiss on the cheek. After that, an annulment was impossible, and during a lengthy divorce process he would hopefully develop a taste for the opposite sex. The plan could not fail. But tonight, as she sat in silence eyeing up the unimpressive meal, she felt a pang of guilt…
Brianna’s older sister Susan hadn’t even touched her mashed potatoes. This was unusual because most who knew Susan best would describe her as a lover of all things carbohydrate. Tonight all Susan could focus on was preventing herself from vomiting onto the table. Susan’s dad was a travelling salesman. Susan’s dad never drank. However, Susan’s dad was also a man who could not resist a bargain. And so, each and every time he passed a duty-free shop he couldn’t help but purchase a bottle of cheap, tax-free liquor. The result was a forgotten closet full of random booze; a closet which Susan’s friends had stumbled upon that afternoon while looking for Christmas presents. The group of preteen girls would have never thought of drinking the liquor a few years previous, but recent months of Avril Lavigne’s hateful lyrics had inspired a streak of rebelliousness that prompted this out of hand behaviour. After a round of rock-paper-scissors, the girls decided on a twenty six of Beefeater gin. Susan forced a sip down her throat and felt an instant sensation of heat fill her belly. She forced a smile and lied that she had enjoyed the taste. Enter peer pressure: the girls consumed the entire bottle. By the time Susan turns 19, the once forgotten closet will be filled with different shades of coloured water. Some will have small bits of alcohol, and Susan will spend her days after work, tasting each one to decide which contains a ticket to oblivion. But now, consumed with the fear of embarrassment, Susan excuses herself from the table.
Susan’s brother Jon normally occupies the seat beside her, but tonight the chair remains empty. Jon is at the beach. Evidence of a high water mark is still visible inches from the top of the ocean wall, telling a story of a narrowly averted disaster. Scattered along the beach is a menagerie of shit: candy wrappers, scrap wood, a set of three used truck tires. A large hermit crab, who has mistakenly made his home in a man’s shoe, scrambles down the shore. Jon and his two best friends lie on the sand oblivious to the garbage around them. They are very stoned on psychedelic drugs. Fits of unexplained anxiousness and emotion come and go with each crashing wave. Jon has lost control of his tear ducts and cries because of his realization that life is really intense. A massive cloud begins to sink down towards him and the fear begins its slow advance. The cloud appears to be mashed potatoes… suddenly Jon remembers the family dinner he is missing, and becomes nostalgic with regret. Jon hopes he comes down in time to teach Sunday school the next morning.
Joanne had hardly noticed that her son Jon was missing from the table. She gazed absentmindedly at nothing in particular. She had been filling the emotional void in her life with steamy Danielle Steele novels for years, but phrases like, “she grabbed his swollen member” and, “as he entered her he could feel her hips swell like ocean tides” just didn’t seem to get the blood flowing like they used to. While cleaning Jon’s room one day she noticed a copy of PC Gamer’s Monthly magazine. The feature article that month was a story about an online role-playing game called Ultima that was sweeping the nation. She read about a fantasy world of dwarves, elves, imps and dragons, where regular people could take on new personas and escape their boring existence, if only online. She found the website and within days she was hooked. Her new persona, an elfin dwarf named Pubis Sky Lark was the antithesis of who she was in everyday life: he was brave, she was submissive; he carried a bow staff, she had no weaponry; he had skills in magic and hypnotism while she, did not. And so she fell deep into the world of role-playing games, spending eight to twelve hours per day online. She sleep-walked through her daily tasks. Her mashed potatoes and parenting skills had suffered as a result. Tonight she would don a cloak and attend the local comic book store for a meeting of local masters and wizards of epic proportions. She covered her plate with ketchup and forced the overcooked meal down her throat.
The mashed potatoes were made with margarine, not real butter, and the peas were genetically modified. The roast beef was once a radical cow, who led a revolt against a ranch and ate an entire farmer as a statement against the consumption of beef. As a result, the meat was gamey. The salt wished it was pepper.
And so, they all ate in silence.
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Evander
non-member comment
Oi vey
...um... interesting ;-)