Shhh! Scribbler at Work

To Cannon or Not... THAT is the Question

(prompt: 'revenge' 26/1/18)

The little old lady in the waiting room was shocked. Deeply shocked, and disapproving too. No mistaking it. Clearly a fully paid-up lavender and lace club member. Our solicitor's office door had not been closed while we were there and the look on her face showed her hearing was unimpaired.

We couldn't help another chuckle as we farewelled our 'legal eagle'. We knew what had ruffled her feathers. It's not every day you'd overhear hilarity from discussion and decisions about funerals and final earthly moments. But that's how it had been for us at our solicitor's that day.

Kanute was infatuated with the idea of a Viking funeral wherein the deceased is put on a longboat laden with goodies for the trip, and riches to enable trade for any forgotten or otherwise desirable items. The boat is launched, and some distance out from land, set on fire by burning arrows launched by a champion archer. Boat, passenger and contents are levelled.

A major problem presented because Kanute wished his immolation to transpire on the great lake we lived near - but no permission was available from local health authorities for such a pursuit. Our solicitor quoted some decidedly macabre possibilities used to argue and defend their case. A deal of 'humming and hawing' resolved that. A cremation, and the ashes put into a toy boat and then on with the show. But no. It proved not at all helpful that we had a resident Olympic gold medallist in archery to fire the fatal shot - the boat was too small a target.

"I know." Our solicitor's face was wreathed in smiles again. He was enjoying this as much as us. "We can use that old cannon in the park down by the lakeside to blast you out of the water!" He clasped his hands together, even rubbed them some, as he saw our faces light up. Well he knew our love of thwarting those who should be obeyed. Much more hilarity ensued, mostly to do with MY last wishes - in particular that I had no wish to be 'blown out of the water'. Not me. Ashes tipped out over any water on a windy day was my choice (adding the proviso that the 'tosser' ensure an offshore wind prevailed. And absolutely NOT to forget Ted Bear Esq. goes with me - cremation and all - because no-one could love him as long and well as I have).

The little old lady would have quite probably met her Maker sooner than expected if she'd known the final irony. On viewing Kanute's chosen weapon of destruction, we discovered it would never meet his expectations and wishes. It had been cemented in place pointing inland - directly at the original Police Station! When we could stop laughing, we speculated about the inexplicable. Our best guess? The trusty foundationers had forefathers who'd been transported to Colonial Australia for minor crimes. The temptation proved irresistible. These great-grandsons gleefully took sweet revenge for the wrongs visited upon the unfortunate branches of their family trees. Not only Downunder - but back-to-front as well!