Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: REDUCE (11/05/15)
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TITLE: Benjamin Carleton Moore | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jack Taylor
11/07/15 -
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The back door creaked open. Something heavy slammed down on the kitchen counter.
“Benny,” called Charlotte Meagan Davensworth. “Benny, I’ve got an idea.”
Benny looked around his ‘cave’ and considered the previous ideas his Maggie had come up with. There were the twelve carved ebony elephants ‘on sale’ taking up his window ledge. Purchasing the elephants, of course, helped out some charity with the refugees.
Then there were the thirty-six candlesticks from Maggie’s around the world collection. They balanced precariously along the shelf edges in front of his history section. The candlesticks were her attempt to keep track of where they’d travelled over the years – even if six of them came from the same resort in Mexico and five came from nearby states. “Why couldn’t you collect postcards” he muttered.
“Benny boo!” she called again, just down the hall. “Can you tear yourself away from that biography for a moment? You’re going to love what I found.”
“I should get a step ladder,” Benjamin chirped in the direction of the travel section. “I could take down the theology books. Hard to understand all that mumbo-jumbo anyway. They’re gathering dust and that’s a health hazard.” He coughed as if for emphasis.
“Benny, are you okay?” She was right at the door.
He nodded and turned to see if she’d brought a clue to her new idea. Nothing was obvious.
“Is that She’s Fit class helping you out?” he asked as a diversion.
“What are you trying to say?” she asked, covering her belly with her hands.
“Nothing, dear” he backpedaled. “I need to get a ladder and wondered if you could help me?”
“You mean you haven’t noticed?” she asked holding out her hands.
He looked at his wife. “Must be the new dress, weren’t you going to reduce that wardrobe?”
Her hands went to her hips. “Benjamin Carleton Moore, you can get your own ladder… and your own dinner… and your own couch to sleep on.” She turned and left with her secret surprise intact.
“Things are reducing quickly around here,” he muttered. He glanced at the psychology section. It’s clear those books hadn’t helped. Maybe two more cartons from the grocery store would work so he could pack them as well.
“Do we have any empty boxes?” he called to his departing wife.
“If you were planning on climbing in and shipping yourself off somewhere I’ll get the stamps,” she retorted.
“Plan B,” he said to the elephants. “Reduce words.”
Getting the ladder wasn’t hard. There were now a few more paint chips to fix on the door jamb where it scraped but he had some paint he needed to use up. The candlestick he displaced from the shelf with the ladder only shattered in four pieces. Reducing the inventory was going well.
He dismantled the theology section and boxed it up, heaved the heavy cartons into the trunk, and disposed of the works in a book bin. “God, hope you have a good time in Russia or Africa,” he said to the orphaned books. “Maybe you’ll have to find another way to talk to me.”
He stopped by the local McDonalds for dinner. The parking spaces were a tight squeeze and seemed smaller than before. There was a campaign to recycle and reduce waste so he obediently put his discards in their appropriate containers. “I wish they had a program to reduce conflict with the wife,” he muttered. “It’s been a month since I had a good roast beef dinner.”
The trip home was slow in his old Audi. Cars everywhere were shrinking in size but they were clogging up the roads more than ever. The sales of all the places reducing prices for the holiday season didn’t help keep the traffic home. Even the banks were reducing mortgage rates to persuade people not to reduce their spending.
When he walked in the door two cartons sat abandoned on the island in the middle of the kitchen. “I’m sorry for ignoring you again,” he called. “What’s this?”
Maggie stepped into the kitchen. “Pastor Henry was culling his theology books and asked if you’d like them. I said ‘of course,’ you love books.”
“You’re funny, God,” said Benny.
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