Mabel

another short, short story...very rough

 

Mabel’s hands worked hard at the dough.  Old and crippled with arthritis they went about their business making the bread.  The bread was to be good and fresh for when Jackson arrived.  Jackson was a parishioner at Mabel’s church.  He was such a polite young man.  He would always smile at her in the communion line, and after the service he would say, “Goodness Miss Mabel, you sure do get dressed up pretty to come see the Lord.”  And she would always blush and say, “Now Jackson, you know I am too old for you, but if I were a little bit younger, you’d have to watch out.”  Last Sunday, Mabel approached him about fixing her garbage disposal.  “Well, of course Miss Mabel, I can come take a look at it.”

“Oh, thank you Jackson.  All my sons have moved away, you know.  And I am getting to be too old to be trying to fix it myself.  Besides, those plumber people are always trying to swindle us kindly old ladies.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want you to be swindled.  I’ll come by Wednesday when I get out of school.”

Gosh, he was even in college.  Mabel wished her granddaughter had settled down with someone more like Jackson, instead of the bum she was with. 

Today was Wednesday, and Mabel was as excited as a chicken when a hen-hawk is around.  She hurried about dusting her house.  She could not remember the last time she had had a visitor, and she had kind of let the house work go.  She did her best to remove the dust that was caked on the built in shelving units, but her old eyesight prevented her from seeing the grime left collected in the corners on atop her many fairy statues.  The next order of business was preparing the food.  Surely Jackson would want something to eat after a long day of college.  Mabel didn’t know exactly what he liked, so she prepared a whole menu.  After she kneaded and set the bread to bake, she began to make preparations for her world famous baked ziti.  She imagined Jackson had never tasted anything like it before.  “Why Miss Mabel,” he would say, “how did you get to be such a great cook?” And she would laugh, “Oh, Jackson, I’ve had many years of practice.” 

She ran the feathered duster over the plastic flowers that were in their fiftieth year of bloom.  Maybe she would even be able to set him up with her granddaughter.  Now that was a thought!  Yes, surely he would accept an invitation to come for dinner one night, and she could arrange for Kallie to come too.  “Miss Mabel, your granddaughter sure takes after you.  She is quite a looker.”

Mabel worked her way to the back of her closet. There she found the silk blouse she had been looking for.  It was navy with gold anchors decorating it.  She picked out a pair of red slacks, and topped the outfit off with her set of pearls.  It would be so great to have a young man around the house again; a reason to have the fridge stocked, to make big meals.  He could cut her grass, and she could provide motherly care.  Mabel made the rounds through her house to make sure everything was perfect.  The bottles of coke were just beginning to chill, and the ziti was in the oven, and the bread was rising right on time.  Just an hour left and Jackson would be there. 

Mabel settled down on her pleather sofa to watch her soap.  She proudly displayed the scarf she had been knitting on the sofa’s arm.  Maybe Jackson would want her to make him one.  At that thought excitement shot through her frail frame, and she forgot about her soap.  She called her friend, Geraldine.

“Geraldine, you know that nice young man from church, Jackson?  Well, he offered to come over and fix my garbage disposal.  All I did was mention it and he said for me not to worry, he could fix anything.”

“Well, Mabel, you know what Betty says about that boy.  She told me that her daughter’s friend dated him, and he got her pregnant and then refused to have anything to do with the baby.”

“Well, that sounds like a lie, Geraldine.  I bet that girl got herself in trouble and preyed upon that nice boy.  The real father was probably some low life creep.  Well, anyway Geraldine he is a nice boy, and I don’t believe he would ever do anything like that.  He even wants to come over this following Sunday for dinner, and maybe even a game of cards.  You know how those young folks like to play cards, and I bet there is a thing or two I can teach him.  And I might even invite Kallie over.  You know that bum she is with.”

“Mabel, just be careful messing in Kallie’s business.  She may like that bum she is with.” 

The conversation went on like so, with Mabel interjecting bits of information about Jackson, however true or false. 

“Ok, Geraldine, I better go.  Jackson is going to be here any minute now.”

Mabel got out and polished her husband’s World War II metals, just in case Jackson would be interested in talking about them.  She took one last glance in the mirror and adjusted her false teeth.  The door bell rang. 

“Well, good afternoon Miss Mabel.”

“Hi Jackson, come on in.  Could I get you a nice cold coke?”

“Oh no, Miss Mabel, I just came to check your garbage disposal.  I can’t stay too long.”

“Oh well, there is the sink right over there.  Are you sure?  It won’t take long to drink a coke, and I have some fresh bread and ziti.  Maybe you could just stay and eat a little bit.  I am sure you are hungry after a long day of college.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t Miss Mabel.  Maybe some other time.  Now let’s see what’s wrong with that garbage disposal.”

Jackson removed the fork that had become lodged in the disposal.  The job took all about two minutes.  “Now that will be a sixty dollar fee,” he said.

“Oh you kidder,” Miss Mabel said. 

Jackson left Miss Mabel alone with freshly backed bread, ziti that could feed four, a bent fork, and little collections of caked dust.  Mabel went and slouched on her pleather sofa and turned on her soaps.