FLASH FICTION:-- HORROR, SCI-FI, HUMOUR, CRIME, SLICE OF LIFE, ETC.

Friday 7 February 2014

Waxy


I only moved into the town a few months ago, and before long took to frequenting Harry's, the bar just around the corner from my house.

The place was friendly and laid back, and I spent many a Saturday evening propped against the bar chin wagging with whomever I happened to be standing next to.

One night I called in to Harry's, and settled myself at the bar with my usual bottle of Bud.

I glanced down the bar, and the only other customer was a guy named Waxy. Although I had never actually spoken to Waxy I knew his name through hearing the locals talk to him. “Hiya Waxy.” they would say, and always got the same reply. “How's it goin' wit' you?” That was always Waxy's response, no matter how anyone greeted him the reply was always the same “How's it goin' wit' you?”

“Good evening.” I ventured.

Waxy turned to look at me, smiled. “How's it goin' wit' you?” Came the amiable reply.

“I'm good.” I said. “Can I buy you a beer?”

That was the start of a strong friendship, me and Waxy got to be real close over the following months.

A few weeks ago me and Waxy were chewing the fat at Harry's bar, curiosity getting the better of me I had asked him about his name. I thought maybe his surname was Wax, or Waxon, or something similar.

“Hell no, my name is Bill Thornton, everyone calls me Waxy because of what I do.”

“You mean your job? Do you work with wax, or keep bees or something?”

Waxy found this extremely amusing, and it was some minutes before he could talk around his laughter.

“No, I'm unemployed right now, I used to work in the chilled food warehouse, but the jumped up dick of a manager started getting on my wick and so I popped him one, he fired me right off. They call me Waxy because of that thing that I do.”

“Thing?” I asked him, wondering what on earth he was talking about.

“Yeah, that thing. You got a lighter on you, I'll show ya.”

I reached into my pocket for my Zippo, and passed it to Waxy. My mind refused to believe what my eyes witnessed next.

Waxy flicked the Zippo into life, then held his forefinger over the flame. After a few moments his finger began to drip. I continued watching in open mouthed amazement as the drops pooled on the bar and began to solidify. Waxy flicked the lighter shut, then scooped up the semi solid goo from the counter and moulded it back onto his finger again.

“That is absolutely amazing.” I stuttered.

“Well, truth is, it's kinda stood in my way, all my life all I ever wanted to be was a firefighter, bummer eh? Anyway, I gotta dash, I got a date with a hot lady, so catch ya later my friend.”

Waxy regularly left early to meet some hot lady or other, he never said who, and I never asked.

Waxy never showed up at the bar again after that evening. No-one saw him or heard from him. Despite police enquiries and searches he was never seen again, it seemed he had just melted into obscurity. Waxy was the best friend I had in the town, and I prayed that he was okay, wherever he was. It was just possible that he had skipped town ahead of some vengeful husband of one of his 'Hot ladies'.

Yesterday as I was walking home from work I passed a garage and garden sale at the late widow Clarkson's house, sad about her, she died suddenly of a heart attack, only in her forties too. I called in to see if there was anything that would help brighten up my rather spartan home.

I knew the widow's son Frank, a pleasant, hard-working young man that always seemed to struggle to make ends meet, and I thought it would be a neighbourly thing to do putting a few dollars his way.

As I browsed the clutter of pictures, furniture and assorted bric-a-brac I came across a huge lump of wax, it looked like some kind of weird sculpture, there was definitely a face in there, fingertips and elbows poking out at odd angles.

Suddenly the face twitched, the mouth moved slightly. “How's it goin' wit' you?” came the familiar voice, accompanied by a slight wink of one misshapen eye.

I nearly fainted. “Waxy? Is that you in there?” I whispered. “Jeez you look a mess, I gotta get you home.”

Acting as nonchalantly as possible I carried Waxy over to where Frank stood near the fence.

“How much would you like for this?” I asked him.

Frank glanced at the sculpture. “Whatever you think it's worth.” He replied, smiling broadly.

I pulled fifty dollars from my wallet, offered it to Frank.

“That's about forty nine more'n I expected.” Said Frank, looking a bit unsure of himself. I insisted that fifty dollars was a bargain for such a work of art, and he reluctantly accepted the money. He found me a large cardboard box to put my purchase into, I bade him goodbye and set about the task of carrying my friend back to the house.

Once home I pulled Waxy from the cardboard box and placed him on the kitchen table.

“I got a blowtorch in my toolbox.” I said to him. “With a bit of work, and a lot of luck I'll see if I can get you somewhere near back to your old shape. What the hell happened to you?”

Waxy chuckled. “Well, ya know all those hot ladies I kept making dates with? Last time I saw you I was going to meet the widow Clarkson, she was one hell of a hot lady I can tell you, truth is, she was just a little TOO hot for me to handle.”



©2014 Stephen. J. Green.

31 comments:

  1. Very cute and family-friendly, Stephen! And it is a very neat trick they've got.

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    1. Thanks John, this is a nice gentle ramble compared to most of my posts, and I enjoyed writing it too. Shame about Waxy's 'firefighter' ambitions though. :-)

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  2. lol, beware the hot ladies! this is endearingly bizarre :-)

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    1. Hiya Maria, it's lovely to hear from you. How's it goin' wit' you? (Chuckle)

      I love the term "Endearingly bizarre" I think that sums it up very nicely, thank you. :-)

      And yes, hot ladies can be very alluring, but also very dangerous.

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  3. Could be a great Budweiser commercial here. You got the "Bud," the greeting ("How's it goin' wit' you?") and one hot lady. Funny thing is, she may have been a little too hot, but he was more than she could handle. A heart attack in the heat of things. What a way to go.

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    1. I'm just waiting for their promotions team to phone me Stephen, LOL. (It's a nice thought though, isn't it)

      I was going to add that she was running a high temperature due to a Flu bug, and hence the excessive heat, but the story was running at 999 words, and I really liked the flow of it, and so didn't want to take anything out to add the extra details.
      So I settled for the heart attack line instead. :-)

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  4. Bwahahahaha! This is hilarious Steve, and so original. I agree with Stephen, you've got a "hot" one here to sell to Budweiser. (sorry, couldn't help myself). ;)

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    1. Thanks Deanna, While I like seeing what I can produce in a very small word count, I'm always happy when I come up with something of this length, especially when it doesn't involve horror or violence. Where on earth my muse gets stuff like this from I have no idea. :-)

      I'm still hanging on for that phone call from their promo team too. LOL.

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  5. Hi Sonia. Hopefully after a few blowtorch sessions and a bit of clever sculpting he'll be capable propping up the bar at Harry's again, maybe in future he'll be seeking the company of ladies that are slightly cooler though. :-)

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  6. Aw, this was a great write and so original. Love the humor and the constant references to heat. Love what happened to him after his date.

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    1. Thanks Kelly, I reckon the lady probably melted his heart too. :-)

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  7. I wondered if you were going to go there with the "hot ladies" bit, and I was delighted when you did! Good thing Waxy has a friend who will put him back to rights.

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    1. Thanks Larry. I did foreshadow the ending, and thought readers might guess where it was going, a man of wax and a hot lady just had to lead to something melting, didn't it? :-)

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  8. I could tell there was something going on with Waxy's 'hot' ladies, but I certainly didn't expect that ending! Fun tale.
    Waxy and the widow Clarkson... an extreme case of 'you shoulda seen the other guy!'

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    1. Hi Kymm, and thanks for stopping by. :-)

      I think maybe he should have taken a couple of cold beers on his date, just might have kept things down to a bearable temperature. :-)

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  9. Awesome story about an interesting character lol. I liked the little wax/candle puns sprinkled throughout too, you got just the right amount in before the story was snuffed out. Oh dear...

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    1. Thanks Casey, better to be snuffed out than to just taper off, eh? Groan! :-)

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  10. Another rib-tickler. I like Waxy. He's an easy going guy.

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    1. Thanks David, I like Waxy too. I may just give him another outing some time in the future, when he's in better shape. :-)

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  11. I liked the fairy-tale quality of this -- the narrator was astonished, but not terrified, of Waxy's essential nature.

    I keep wondering what Madame Tussaud has to do with this.

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    1. Thanks Katherine. I kept it light as I wanted it to be a gentle, fun story, as opposed to horror. :-)

      I was hoping to write something in there about Madame Tussaud but just ran out of available word-count. (Unusual for me with the brevity of most of my pieces.)

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  12. A real fun story, this line made me laugh out loud "“Waxy? Is that you in there?” I whispered. “Jeez you look a mess, I gotta get you home.”

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    1. Hi Helen, glad it brought a giggle to your weekend. :-)

      I definitely wrote this with my tongue firmly in my cheek, a bit of silliness that I really enjoyed writing. :-)

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  13. Oh, dear! Weird and creepy and funny all at the same time. I'll blame my nightmares on you. :P

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    1. Hi Catherine, I can't see you getting nightmares from this, waxy is far too nice a character. :-)

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  14. That's one cool story, Steve! It's pleasantly weird and warmly charming with a cheeky character and a good friend. What more can you want?

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    1. Thanks Cindy, it's certainly a little 'different' isn't it? :-)

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  15. Hey, Steve! Here's a Liebster Award for you (once again) http://cindyvaskova.wordpress.com/2014/02/11/pink-liebster/

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    1. Why, thank you very kindly Cindy, I shall pop over. :-)

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