Vol. 2 No. 9 • May, 2009
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Tales of Whisper Gap
Stories from the small town of Whisper Gap where one
life, one tale invariably reaches out to touch the next.
by Jo Janoski.

 

The Bomb Scare

The brown paper bag, although smudged with grime, was nothing special, except for the fact it lay along the curb with no owner in sight. No one saw who left it or knew where it came from. It rested there now, as Mildred the secretary, who was the first to notice, punched out 911 with trembling fingers scrambling across the keypad on her cell phone.
"Police? There's an abandoned package at Fourth and Main!"

Patty, the operator, transferred the call in order to stir the bomb squad into action. Next, she leaned back and let out a humongous sigh, the kind that runs out first like a gentle tributary, before next building volume to gush out like a raging flood.

"What's with you?" Dan who sat across from her removed his headset, a bemused expression taking over his face.

"It looks like we're not gonna get out of here anytime soon. That's what!"

It was true. Patty knew the little police station was short-staffed, and the next shift would already be preempted to make calls and arrangements to handle the crisis.

Dan loosened his collar and sat back. "Oh, no! What happened?"

"Suspicious package at Fourth and Main."

"We're toast!" He looked at her with a hungry glare. They had a date for tonight. At his place. And he really, really wanted to get the lovely, sexy Patty to his place. Alone. Just the two of them. He studied her rounded breasts and pursed red lips, and sighed.

She returned his gaze with a bleak expression, knowing full well what she was missing.

Meanwhile, back at Fourth and Main, Mildred hovered like a mother hen, taking charge, pushing people back out of the way so the police could do their work.

"Is that Mildred over there! Oh brother! It's bad enough she bosses us at the office. Now the whole town is under her command!" Amanda Pierce guffawed and looked to her companion, Betty. The two worked as clerks under Mildred's stringent supervision.

"Unbelievable!" Betty said the word extra slow for emphasis. But a part of her heart fretted over Mildred, who lost her husband last year to cancer. Since then, Mildred seemed preoccupied, fidgety.

"Everybody! Back off!" Detective Jones nodded to his uniformed staff to get the people out. But the crowd didn't want to disperse. Even in the face of grave danger, curiosity grits its teeth and takes a stand. Mildred shooed them out better than any of the officers. But the obstinate throng kept creeping back like the tide, continually tickling the shore with its watery claws before withdrawing again.

Detective Jones got to work, his rugged chin set, ready for action. The next step was to start the robot, fondly dubbed "Ralph" into motion. The machine, brought in on a forklift, was ready and blinking a cautioning red "eye" before Detectives Jones sent it on its way. As the machine wheeled to the brown bag, the whirring of its gears was the only sound, since traffic was far away and the crowd speechless. The hypnotic hum mesmerized those souls who watched and listened.

"Ralph" circled the package twice before clicking and whirring to gather x-ray data, red lights blinking in unison with yellow. Then the robot stopped, turned, and with a satisfied beep wheeled its way back to the police officers. Soon they huddled over the x-rays, murmuring amongst themselves until finally Detective Jones stood and addressed the crowd.

"The results are inconclusive," he said. He turned and nodded to Chief Brooster of the fire department. "Bring in the hoses!"

They came, struggling with the heavy equipment which dragged behind them like bulging, obstinate boa constrictors. When the water blasted out, onlookers ran for cover, so mighty and forceful was the stream. It pounded like angry fists on the brown paper bag, soaking through before blasting the contents into the air. Chards of Styrofoam flew up followed by, of all things, noodles flip-flopping, all of it drenched by pulsating, yellow chicken broth jetting upward like a fountain.

"It's chicken soup!" Detective Jones remarked. Licking a noodle off his finger which had landed on his head before he retrieved it. "Damn chicken soup!"

"Chicken soup!" Betty said to Amanda. "Did you hear that? Chicken Soup? Mildred, did you hear that? Chicken soup?"

Back at the dispatcher's office, Patty and Dan heard the news and were equally amazed. "Chicken soup, if that don't beat all," Dan commented, his blue eyes resting on Patty. That girl smiled in return, a cute little twinkle in her gaze.

"Chicken soup..." she added, nodding her head.

They all knew where the soup had come from, Joe's Deli, over at Third and Main. And that's where they all headed -- Patty, Dan, Mildred, Amanda, Betty, Detective Jones, everyone. It was the most natural reaction. I mean, that's what people do in a little town like Whisper Gap, meet for soup at Joe's Deli -- no matter what their differences, they come together at Joe's. Because he makes the best chicken soup in the universe. Why anyone would abandon their chicken soup from Joe's at the corner of Fourth and Main is a mystery. Must have been a stranger in town. It's too bad he couldn't join them for lunch.

Copyright 2009 JO Janoski

Jo Janoski is a poet, author, and photographer from Pittsburgh, PA.

Send Jo a message either directly or using the Word Catalyst feedback form. For more from Jo visit the Word Catalyst archives or her online home.
 

Whisper Gap
Jo Janoski
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Watch This
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From The Attic
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Chronicles
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Thinkin' Out Loud Nan Jabobs
Truly Calhoun
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Songs of
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Shirley Allard Publisher