Thursday, October 12, 2017

The Lothario of Delancy Street

Last week, we talked about the book I'm currently working on called ABADDON'S LOCUSTS. Today, I'd like to return to a bit of flash fiction.

Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

          Markie Pulser adored girls, but he had a problem. His mother and grandmother, two strong, bible-thumping women, raised him for most of his eighteen years. And they instilled in him the very strong—overpowering, really—conviction that individuals of the female persuasion were to be treated with the utmost respect and reverence. This earned him a certain popularity among the girls at school, but it also presented a conundrum. He had not yet figured a way to get a single one of them off the pedestal and into bed. In fact, he was totally flummoxed by the idea that he wanted to do such a dastardly thing.
          This morning as he tripped down the steps of his home at 5555 Delancy Street, nothing was farther from his mind than his obsession with girls. The algebra test looming before him occupied his frontal lobes. He thought he was prepared, but that sneaky Mr. Sean had a way of throwing the class a curve.
          Distracted by the coming exam, he failed to see Suzanne Bowers—no one ever dared call her Suzy—walking down the sidewalk. He caught himself before he barreled into her but tripped over his own feet and lurched forward. Even as he mouthed an apology, one hand close over a part of Suzanne’s torso that was one of her most alluring features. Naturally, his grip squeezed. He’d always wondered if boobs were as soft as they looked. Now he knew. Embarrassed, he snatched his hand away and mumbled a second apology, this one a little incoherent.
          Suzanne halted and gave him an irritated look that turned into a smile. “Well, hello there, Markie. Walk me to school?”
          “Yeah, sure.”
          She took his arm and pulled him close as they strolled down Delancy Street. Somehow he found himself having sodas with her that afternoon and a movie that night. And after the movie, she suggested a drive. In the middle of that drive, Markie plucked that girl right off her pedestal.

          A week later, as he rushed down the hallway to Science class, he zigged when he should have zagged and collided with Coleen Oliver. He put his arms around her to prevent her from falling and noticed how good she felt snuggled right up against him. Rather than turning angry, Coleen smiled and said, “Well, hello there, Markie.” That evening, he had a marvelous time with her in her family’s basement den while her mother was occupied upstairs.

          Naturally, Markie wondered if he wasn’t onto something. Maybe being a klutz wasn’t so bad after all. He didn’t think he got more clumsy on purpose, but a trip over a crack in the sidewalk netted him Jacquie Pickering and a missed dance step at the spring prom resulted in Barbra Brownstone.
          Despite certain misgivings, he began to think of himself as a Lothario. The Lothario of Delancy Street. “Well, hello there, Markie” became a signal of exciting things to come.

          Filled with thoughts of his senior year ending next week, Markie came out of the house and hopped down the steps to the sidewalk. He was vaguely aware of someone in front of him, but Mrs. Winston, who’d lived across the street his whole life, called a greeting. He looked in her direction, waved, and shouted his own “hello.”
          As his attention returned to the sidewalk, the individual in front of him bent over to retrieve something on the cement. He tried to stop; it was too late. He walked straight into the figure. Grabbing the trim hips in front of him to keep the other from falling, he couldn’t help noticing what a good fit they made.
          The other person stood and whirled. The irritation on John Harris Weeks’ face faded. In fact, he smiled. “Well, hello there, Markie.”


Talk about unintended consequences! Wonder how Markie handled it? Let your imagination complete the story.

I hope you enjoyed that little bit of fluff. 

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