The Brooch

A Restless Mind Of Wonder

In the late hours of the night, Maple kept listening to the tick of the tock, of her nonstop clock, click, clack, clanking, louder and louder, second after infuriating second! She tossed and she turned! She kicked and she yearned, for the night to be nothing but a distant memory. But her own mind betrayed her...

Frustrated she so desperately tried to cover her racing mind with the pillow to try and strangle her endless thoughts. But it wasn't working! Not by a long shot! The night was escaping her with every waking moment, like a flame to a match. Maple found herself restless and having a fit in her own bed! She couldn't get that darn kiss out of her mind. And not the kiss she wanted with Andrew, but the one with Tator! If she was gonna think of a kiss, that was the last one she ever wanted to focus on... ever!

In sheer desperation, she tried to trick her own mind to play over and over to focus on the kiss from Andrew... You see to Maple, the kiss she shared with Andrew wasn't all that bad. After all, he did have fresh breath and soft lips. But she felt that kiss was lifeless.... Dull as an unsharpened pencil sitting in dish water with no bubbles.

She thought, 'maybe if I can replay that one kiss, and concentrate hard enough I can find something sweet about it... surely then I can erase that Tator from my mind!' but every time, she'd find herself drifting and falling into dreams, she'd kick herself awake. Because every time, all she saw was Tator's face and felt his kiss! It was almost as if he was holding her dreams hostage!

"Grrr!" She growled!

There was no relief to her night. She couldn't understand, why was this kiss so unlike than the last two kisses they shared. Why was this one feel so different? And why did she desire more? She continued to toss the night away! There was just no erasing the emotions she had started to unwontedly feel toward that raunchy little turd, of a man, Malcom Tatorsen.

But you see, she wasn't the only one to be restless that night and dreaming of Tator... Oh yes, Mrs. Crowder, tossed just as much as poor Maple if not more, thinking of that same kiss, she had just saw hours earlier.

What did that girl do to my sweet, innocent, Tator she growled! How could he kiss her? She fussed! Of all the single girls in Ponchas, Mrs. Crowder, could not wrap her mind around Tator puckering up to the likes of Maple! She must have put some kind of spell on him, she cried as she cringed at the thought of her grandson, kissing a Hastings! Something she vowed, she was never going to let happen again. Not if she had anything to do with it...

In the morning, an incredibly grouchy irritable, blood shot eyed, Mrs. Crowder forced her trusty handyman, Cleaver, to try and track down. and bring back her grandson. But to her dismay, he was not successful in the pursuit. In fact it would be days later, before Tator returned...

And that bothered not only Mrs. Crowder, but surprisingly Maple...

On a pretty fall misty morning, as the leaves were crisp, and bright red orange covering the grass and streets like an enchanting carpet, Tator eventually returned to Ponchas. And of all places, to Mrs. Crowder's.

Without warning he turned off her trusty alarm and glided into his Nana's estate. He propped himself on one of her mothballing, plastic sofas! Mrs. Crowder heard the rustling. She jumped out of her bed as fast as she could, rollers and all, on the sections, she could fit of course. Like a race horse, she came rushing down those stairs with her short legs as fast as she could.

"Malcom Halbert Tatorsen! Where have you been?" She griped!

"Thankin." He replied biting into a sour apple.

"I have been lookin for you everywhere!" She fussed.

"Have ya?" He smiled sitting up. "Well I'm alright Nana. You know me. Always on the run."