“Fishing is boring,” Carla said as she stared at Edgar’s unmoving line.
Minnie nodded from the front of the boat. “Of course it is. That’s why humans invented grocery stores.” (More)
Midday Matinee is our people watching, people doing and people being feature. Join the Woodland Creatures for an afternoon break.
Welcome back to Tuesday’s Tale, a weekly feature where we collaborate to write a story. Previous Tuesday’s Tales include Cave Sweet Cave and The Man that Wasn’t. We follow the basic rules of the “Yes, And” improvisational game – accept everything written so far as part of the story, and add your own paragraph (or so) where the last addition left off – except you needn’t begin your addition with “Yes, and.” I’ll start the story….
“She has a point,” Carla said to Edgar. “We could just buy fish, you know.”
“True,” Edgar said. “But then we couldn’t talk with Minnie. I enjoy her company.”
Minnie might have blushed, although it was hard to tell. She did smile, exposing a gleaming set of teeth that might have looked fearsome were she more than twenty-four inches long. She had doubled in length over the winter. Edgar had no idea how long it would take Minnie to reach the size of her mother, Maddie, for whom Lake Madelaine was named. Or vice versa, depending on whom you asked.
In fact, Edgar wasn’t sure exactly how big Maddie was. They’d met only once, on a previous fishing trip involving a leak in the boat, which Edgar had since repaired. In that meeting, he’d seen only Maddie’s dinner-plate-sized eye. And vice versa, depending on whom you asked.
“She is nice,” Carla said, shifting in her seat to return Minnie’s smile with larger if somewhat less fearsome teeth. “But fishing is still boring.”
Edgar’s phone erupted with The Ride of the Valkyries. Carla reached for her back pocket. “Oops. Butt dial.”
“You’re nice too,” Minnie said to Carla. “I was kind of surprised. Because of the ring tone and stuff.”
Carla laughed. “I think that was what humans call a double entendre.”
“A word, phrase, or symbol with two meanings,” Minnie said, nodding her long neck. “We have a different word for that.”
“Oh?” Carla asked. “What is it?”
“Orrrrshplurplort,” Minnie said, sounding vaguely like a sleeping hippo rolling over onto a balloon filled with ketchup.
“Umm, can you spell that?” Carla asked.
Minnie smiled. “Yes, but it wouldn’t help. You need a neck like ours to pronounce it correctly. Anyway, you were saying?”
“Edgar and I were arguing when he made that my ring tone,” Carla said, patting Edgar’s arm gently. “But also, he knows that’s my favorite opera.”
“You like opera?” Minnie asked, clapping her flippers in delight. “I do too!”
Edgar groaned quietly. “Can we please not scare away the fish?”
“Fish pish,” Carla said. She looked at Minnie. “What’s your favorite aria?”
“It’s from one of ours,” Minnie said. “I’ll sing it for you.”
What followed were sounds the sleeping hippo might make upon waking up face down in a jello salad. Green jello. With shaved carrots. And Cool Whip. On the other hand, Edgar thought, the melody was rather pretty.