| General Fiction posted September 25, 2022 |
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An Ohmie and May caveman story
May Cleans Up
by Wayne Fowler
“Watcha doin’? May’s friend from the cave across the hollow asked. “You sure have a lot of spiders in those trees down there.”
“Oh, Daisy, I’m glad you’re here. I need your help.” May ignored the spider comment.
“May! What happened to your skin? It’s all, all… pink!”
“Oh, I washed.”
“Well, I wash and I’m still the color of dirt,” Daisy replied, studying May all over.
“I used soap,” May said.
“What’s soap?”
“Well, I cooked white oak ashes and hog fat in lye water. Here, I made a bar for you.”
“Smells… okay, I guess.”
“You get wet, and then rub yourself all over with that. Real hard like. That layer of dirt comes off just like a snake shedding its skin.”
Daisy hmmmed.
I made some shampoo for hair, too. But I haven’t invented crème rinse yet. That’s why I need your help, to comb out the tangles.”
“Cream rinse?”
“No, crème rinse.”
Daisy looked at May bumfuzzled. “And what’s a comb?”
“Here, I made two. I carved it out of a coyote’s shoulder blade.”
“You’re coming to the block party, aren’t you? Daisy asked, studying her new comb. “I hear that cute boy, Ohmie will be there.
Daisy didn’t see it, but May shot her a venomous, rival-killer look.
.
“Blado’s kinda cute, too,” May offered, hoping to lead Daisy away from Ohmie.
“Bla-do?” Daisy shrieked, stifling a guffaw. “He’s…”
“Cute,” May interrupted. “In his own homespun way. A good provider, that one’s gonna be. Why just look at how big and strong he is already, and only just now sixteen.”
“A good provider, huh?”
“Come on. Let’s go down to the river and I’ll help you get that dirt off. Then we can do each other’s hair.”
Once the crying stopped, their hair dried and all the tangles out, May fixed Daisy’s hair. “It looks like a horse tail!” Daisy complained.
“No. It looks better if we call it a ponytail! And look how it gets all that hair off your neck. Imagine on a hot summer day.”
“Oh, yeah,” Daisy agreed. “Working the field or scraping all the fat off the animal hides.”
“That Blado will bring to your cave!” May joked. “And for the party we can stack it up like this for some glamour.”
“What’s glamour?” Daisy asked.
“It’s what’s gonna make Blado carve you out a cave big enough for the two of you and a dozen babies.
Daisy hugged herself, holding her glamour pose.
“What about you?” Daisy asked. “You cut your hair so short.” Daisy caught herself, freezing in place. “May?” she nearly squealed. “What about, you know, men who aren’t Ohmie or Blado? Doesn’t my tail just give them an easy handle?”
May thought for a half a minute. “Daisy as fast as you can run, why, just give your head a shake with each step, and they’ll fall flat on their faces missing it instead of hooking their dirty fingers in your old tangles.”
Both laughed at the visual.
A couple days later, the neighborhood assembled at the mouth of the hollow.
“May, honey, is that you?” May’s Aunt Gladiola asked, her mouth agape and her eyes abulged.
May heard that a dozen times as she walked through the mass of people in her search of Ohmie. Behind her, she heard asked a number of times what it was that she was wearing? What she’d done to her protective coating of dirt and animal grease? And what kept whatever that was, that collar-less, strap-less thing she was wearing up. “It’s obvious,” one answered. “Everybody can see what’s holding it up.”
Once she’d found Ohmie and sent him to the river with a bar of soap, May returned to her women kinfolk ready to answer their questions. I call it an asymmetrical curly bob, and this little number? I made it of silk, and it feels sooo-ooo good. No, it doesn’t need straps, I, uh, well, it can’t drop any lower, as snug as it fits.”
“Oh, hey Ohmie. You sure look good!”
Ohmie was spell-bound, staring at May.
Answering the last of the questions, May explained that her clutch was made of a sow’s ear, but that her footwear was what she called her Jimmy Choo shoes. The women looked at her in a stuperfied gaze.
Ohmie got as close to May as he dared. What, with all her women kinfolk around her, Ohmie drew in deeply, keeping a respectable inch, or two away from her. “You fall into a flower bed? You sure smell nice.”
“Silly, I call that Chanel Number 5. Numbers one, two, three, and four all smelled either like old dead fish, or… well, let’s just say they weren’t as pleasant.”
“May?”
“Yes, Ohmie.”
“Uh, I think I’m ready to dig out that cave you talked about a couple years back. The one where you said you might, you know, hold out your hand, and we …”
May smiled… and extended her hand.
Beside Ohmie stood Blado, his eyes crossing, his mouth close to a drool when Daisy side-stepped, blocking his view. Deftly shaking her head, her ponytail slapped Blado to consciousness. As he snatched the troublesome tail, Daisy turned into him. “Oh, hi Blado. I didn’t see you standing there. You, uh, wanna go to the river and, uh, use my soap?”
“Me?” Blado blubbered.
“Watcha doin’? May’s friend from the cave across the hollow asked. “You sure have a lot of spiders in those trees down there.”
“Oh, Daisy, I’m glad you’re here. I need your help.” May ignored the spider comment.
“May! What happened to your skin? It’s all, all… pink!”
“Oh, I washed.”
“Well, I wash and I’m still the color of dirt,” Daisy replied, studying May all over.
“I used soap,” May said.
“What’s soap?”
“Well, I cooked white oak ashes and hog fat in lye water. Here, I made a bar for you.”
“Smells… okay, I guess.”
“You get wet, and then rub yourself all over with that. Real hard like. That layer of dirt comes off just like a snake shedding its skin.”
Daisy hmmmed.
I made some shampoo for hair, too. But I haven’t invented crème rinse yet. That’s why I need your help, to comb out the tangles.”
“Cream rinse?”
“No, crème rinse.”
Daisy looked at May bumfuzzled. “And what’s a comb?”
“Here, I made two. I carved it out of a coyote’s shoulder blade.”
“You’re coming to the block party, aren’t you? Daisy asked, studying her new comb. “I hear that cute boy, Ohmie will be there.
Daisy didn’t see it, but May shot her a venomous, rival-killer look.
.
“Blado’s kinda cute, too,” May offered, hoping to lead Daisy away from Ohmie.
“Blado’s kinda cute, too,” May offered, hoping to lead Daisy away from Ohmie.
“Bla-do?” Daisy shrieked, stifling a guffaw. “He’s…”
“Cute,” May interrupted. “In his own homespun way. A good provider, that one’s gonna be. Why just look at how big and strong he is already, and only just now sixteen.”
“A good provider, huh?”
“Come on. Let’s go down to the river and I’ll help you get that dirt off. Then we can do each other’s hair.”
Once the crying stopped, their hair dried and all the tangles out, May fixed Daisy’s hair. “It looks like a horse tail!” Daisy complained.
“No. It looks better if we call it a ponytail! And look how it gets all that hair off your neck. Imagine on a hot summer day.”
“Oh, yeah,” Daisy agreed. “Working the field or scraping all the fat off the animal hides.”
“That Blado will bring to your cave!” May joked. “And for the party we can stack it up like this for some glamour.”
“What’s glamour?” Daisy asked.
“It’s what’s gonna make Blado carve you out a cave big enough for the two of you and a dozen babies.
Daisy hugged herself, holding her glamour pose.
“What about you?” Daisy asked. “You cut your hair so short.” Daisy caught herself, freezing in place. “May?” she nearly squealed. “What about, you know, men who aren’t Ohmie or Blado? Doesn’t my tail just give them an easy handle?”
May thought for a half a minute. “Daisy as fast as you can run, why, just give your head a shake with each step, and they’ll fall flat on their faces missing it instead of hooking their dirty fingers in your old tangles.”
Both laughed at the visual.
A couple days later, the neighborhood assembled at the mouth of the hollow.
“May, honey, is that you?” May’s Aunt Gladiola asked, her mouth agape and her eyes abulged.
May heard that a dozen times as she walked through the mass of people in her search of Ohmie. Behind her, she heard asked a number of times what it was that she was wearing? What she’d done to her protective coating of dirt and animal grease? And what kept whatever that was, that collar-less, strap-less thing she was wearing up. “It’s obvious,” one answered. “Everybody can see what’s holding it up.”
Once she’d found Ohmie and sent him to the river with a bar of soap, May returned to her women kinfolk ready to answer their questions. I call it an asymmetrical curly bob, and this little number? I made it of silk, and it feels sooo-ooo good. No, it doesn’t need straps, I, uh, well, it can’t drop any lower, as snug as it fits.”
“Oh, hey Ohmie. You sure look good!”
Ohmie was spell-bound, staring at May.
Answering the last of the questions, May explained that her clutch was made of a sow’s ear, but that her footwear was what she called her Jimmy Choo shoes. The women looked at her in a stuperfied gaze.
Ohmie got as close to May as he dared. What, with all her women kinfolk around her, Ohmie drew in deeply, keeping a respectable inch, or two away from her. “You fall into a flower bed? You sure smell nice.”
“Silly, I call that Chanel Number 5. Numbers one, two, three, and four all smelled either like old dead fish, or… well, let’s just say they weren’t as pleasant.”
“May?”
“Yes, Ohmie.”
“Uh, I think I’m ready to dig out that cave you talked about a couple years back. The one where you said you might, you know, hold out your hand, and we …”
May smiled… and extended her hand.
Beside Ohmie stood Blado, his eyes crossing, his mouth close to a drool when Daisy side-stepped, blocking his view. Deftly shaking her head, her ponytail slapped Blado to consciousness. As he snatched the troublesome tail, Daisy turned into him. “Oh, hi Blado. I didn’t see you standing there. You, uh, wanna go to the river and, uh, use my soap?”
“Me?” Blado blubbered.
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