Weeping Willows

Invasion of the Elderly Kind

Chapter 4

Elizabeth rolled up her sleeves and widened her stance in preparation for the chaos that was shuffling her way. She kept mumbling to herself 'you can do this', and 'what's the worst that can happen'? Plastering on what her friends called a customer service smile she waited for everyone to take their seats. "Hello everyone. I'm Elizabeth Foster and I'm going to teach you some art." If she thought she was going to get a warm greeting in return she was clearly mistaken. Huffing out a breath she began to show them what to do with the clay on their tables. She found that most of them were rather intrigued by the white malleable substance before them.

"Why are we playing with kid's toys?" One of the sisters asked while poking at her lump of clay in disgust.

"While I know it doesn't feel as stiff as regular art clay, I can assure you that that is what it is. I chose this since I wasn't sure if any of you had issues with arthritis and it is easier to work with."

"Can I make teeth with this? I need a new set of chompers, mine just don't fit right anymore?" The other sister asked eyeballing her clump with an assessing glare.

"If this is good on arthritis do you think it could help my gout?" This came from the gentleman who had enjoyed harassing the woman with fuzzy slippers, who as it turns out, was now his table mate. He picked up his lump aiming for the floor while trying to kick off his shoe.  Elizabeth rushed to his table to thwart his attempts gently guiding him back around to face the table.

 "It's not that it helps with arthritis but won't cause it to inflame instead. I'm fairly sure it would do nothing for your gout and would appreciate it if you did not put your feet in the clay Mr.?"

"The name is Charles doll, but you can call me Charlie if you'd like." He told her with a slow wink and a sly smile. "I wasn't really going to throw it doll, but how else is a guy suppose to get your attention?"

'Great, just great. I've got an elderly lothario in my class.' Elizabeth couldn't help the eye roll that accompanied her thoughts but was soon distracted by his table mate adding her two cents in.

"Don't you lie to her Charles. Throwing mud like an ill-behaved child in a school yard is right up your alley. You just didn't want to get caught." She scolded him while pointing a boney wrinkly finger at him. Turning to Elizabeth the elder woman held out her hand in introduction. "I'm Fanny. Pay no notice to Charles here. He just likes attention." Fanny gripped her hand in a firm brisk shake before turning back to her own clay in front of her. Charlie stuck his tongue out at Fanny for ruining his fun. When she scowled back at him, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively causing her to mutter some not so quiet anatomically impossible threats at him.

"You know this stuff already smells like feet are you sure that's not what it's for?" Elizabeth whipped around back towards the sisters ready to intercede any more thoughts of clay throwing. Much to her relief the woman was sniffing at her clay while still poking it in disgust. "This smell doesn't stay on you does it. I don't want to go around smelling like dirty socks."

"I can assure you the smell will wash off your hands just fine." She tried to look as trustworthy as possible as she approached their table. The other sister was cutting away at her now rectangular shaped piece. Each time she cut some off she would measure it against her sunken lips only to put it back down and cut more away. Elizabeth placed her hand over her warm paper-thin skin gaining the woman's attention. "While you could mold a set of teeth with this, they wouldn't be strong enough to work as actual dentures."