Trouble With Bricks 2

Chapter Two – Frank Sparks’ Sad Tales of Woe

         The little man that jumped up from the ground where Cleotus had originally fallen was truly unlike any other person that Suzie had ever seen. Altogether he stood about four feet tall, which was a good deal shorter than most other Frank Sparks she knew. He was dressed head to toe in green camouflage and had a large hat festooned with a dazzling array of stuffed fish. His legs were bow-legged and his arms were short and fat, which made him look like he had two dachshunds on for gloves.
         When he first had jumped up, Suzie noted that he was flat as a hunk of cardboard. But the little man quickly inserted his thumb into his mouth and blew with all his might, causing his body to pop out to normal, if anything about Frank could be normal.  Frank pointed an agitated finger directly at Suzie.
         “You!” He exclaimed like a rabid beaver.
         “Me? What did I do?” Suzie retorted, like the rabid beaver’s second cousin, twice removed.
         Frank strode toward her like he was prepared to jump on her back and ride her like a pack mule.
         “What did you do with my colon?”
         Oh, thought Suzie, it’s a colon. How silly of me.
         Suzie pointed to the side, where the colon was currently trying to mug a squirrel.
         A smile lit up on Frank’s face. “Ah, then everything’s corky then. Now where’s the silly fat wombat that squished me flat.”
         Suzie pointed to the tent where Cleotus, face smudged with some sort of chocolate, please let it be chocolate, was now digging through some kind of big brown sack.
         “You,” yelled Frank, “Get the heck out of my stuff. That’s not for the likes of you.”
         He turned to Suzie as Cleotus continued about his business. “Now, my name’s Frank Sparks and this here’s my place. That there’s my colon. What’s your business here and what’s with the big lump?”
         “What’s your colon doing outside of your body?” Suzie asked, like the rude little girl that she was.
         Frank leveled himself down on a log and got real comfortable, stretching his arms and legs, and donning slippers made from asbestos.
         “Now that’s an interesting tale, my dear,” He began, and was stopped instantly by Suzie.
         “Then it must be boring,” Suzie replied. “Look, some goofy looking fairy sent us down this dark hole…”
         “That would be the shaft.”
         “Yeah,” continued Suzie, “and we wound up here in what looks like Fairy Tales Gone Wild. Now, I don’t know what we did to tick off that Mint Julep Fairy, but I sure want to go back right now.”
         “The Mint Julep Fairy, you say,” questioned Frank.
         “That what she said her name was,” answered Suzie.
         Frank suddenly stood up. “Well, that explains it then. You see, the Mint Julep Fairy was always a little trigger happy. And now, what with the recent drought and her bunion problems, she probably just went a little over the edge.”
         “A lot over the edge,” Suzie added.
         “Well, there’s that. Say, what you need to do is go and see Mr. Wilson the magical accountant. Maybe he could help you find your way back home.”
         “How would an accountant help me find my way back home?”
         “Didn’t I say he was magical? Oh, he can do so many fine tricks. Oh, the tricks he can do. Why, he once gave my Aunt Latisha a magical handkerchief and every time she blew her nose her hair turned a different color.”
         “That’s just dumb,” replied Suzie, getting a little feisty.
         “That may be,” retorted Frank. “But see, the way I figure it, you could use all the help you can get. And maybe if I can get you to Mr. Wilson and get you back home, maybe you’ll think of me next time you have a pest problem.”
         “A pest problem?”
         “Certainly. Oh, didn’t I tell you my profession? I guess not.”
         Frank reached into the abyss he called a pocket and carefully removed a small business card, which he handed to Suzie. The card read, “Frank Sparks, Professional Leprechaun Hunter and Surgeon. Destroying the Green Vermin since before the Age of Ragnarok”.
         “Got a problem with leprechaun infestations around here?” Suzie asked.
         “My dear,” Frank answered, “you have no idea. You can keep the card by the way. I’ve got tons more. What do you think of that logo? My mom came up with it.”
         “Very catchy.” Suzie responded as she glanced back at Cleotus, who was snoring softly, half in and half out of the tent. Frank’s colon stood next to her inert brother, casually kicking the drowsing lump.
         “Well,” pattered a pleased Frank, “marketing is what it’s all about. Without a catchy slogan, no leprechaun hunter’s worth his weight. Yes, sir. So, it may have slipped your mind, but I didn’t catch your name.”
         “Yep,” answered Suzie.
         Frank waited a minute and then tried another tactic. He pointed at his chest. “Me Frank. And you…”
         Suzie took a moment to glance him over to make certain he wasn’t too deranged, which he obviously was, but what was she gonna do?
         “My name is Suzie and that’s my brother Cleotus.”
         “Cleotus, huh? What kind of name is that? Sounds like a joke.”
         “It isn’t.” Suzie answered. “At least as far as I know. I guess it could be my parent’s idea of a joke. But, if it is, it’ll be the first one I ever heard them say.”
         Suddenly, Suzie felt something tapping on her shoe. She looked down to see Frank’s Colon, with its hands bunched into fists on its hips, if it had hips. It’s foot was tapping furiously on the ground.
         “Your brother,” it began, “ate all of my beef jerky!”
         Frank attempted to intercede. “Just back off slowly, colon.”
         Frank’s Colon turned to Frank with anger thick as matador’s fake chest hair coating its voice. “Back off? Oh, I’ll back off all right. I’ll kill that waste of oxygen!”
         And with that, Frank’s Colon threw itself at the sleeping, water buffalo like body of Cleotus attempting to strangle the big oaf’s foot. Frank stepped in quickly and restrained the furious organ, whispering furtively and giving the colon a quick shoulder massage, if it had shoulders.
         “Come on, Colon . Just ease on, man. Ease on. Let the bad flow out. Let the good flow in. Give peace a chance. The stronger man is the man who forgives.”
         Frank’s Colon , who had had enough, turned abruptly and smacked Frank’s hands away. “All right,” it shouted in finality. “I let it live this one time. But if it messes with me, if I have to smell it or if it eats any more of my food, it’s dead! I swear to you.”
         Finished, Frank’s Colon left the campsite in search of peace and possible any stray, injured raccoons. After it had left, Frank turned to Suzie with a look of apology.
         “What can I say,” said Frank, “he hasn’t been the same since the operation. Anyway, where were we?”
         As they sat again, Suzie looked carefully around the campsite.
         “So,” she began, “have you been here long?”
         “I know what you’re thinking and I’ve got two words for you: hobo magic. Yeah, see, cause that’s what I’ve been doing in the meantime while I’ve been waiting for my next gig. I’ve been practicing my hobo magic. I figure if I spread out a little, diversify, then I’ll have more going on. You know what I mean?”
         Suzie could only shake her head in wonder.
         “Yeah, so I’ve been hanging out at this campsite for the last twenty years, perfecting the art of hobo magic and I think I got a handle on it. I mean, I know I’m a little rusty still with the finer applications and all. But I think for the most part, I’m learning. It’s rough though. It’s just been me and the colon for a while now.
         “We hooked up with this circus bear named Small Berries a while back and that was cool. I mean, we had an act. He’d ride this unicycle in circles while I shot my gun at him. Well, not at him specifically. He had this balloon stuck in his mouth and I shot it. Well, I tried to shoot it. I wasn’t that good at the shooting part.
         “But then I had this flash of insight one night. What if I learned hobo magic and that could be the filler act? You know, the trick that really reeled them in. So, after I accidentally shot Small Berries in the face once too often and he was recuperating in the Whizzles and Flipskins General Orthopedic and Latex Surgery Unit, we decided to part ways for a little bit. He was gonna take a few years off, let his face heal, maybe do a little pottery, and I was gonna come in here and study the fine art of hobo magic.
         “Well, that was twenty years ago, and I think I’ve about got a handle on this hobo magic thing. I can do this one trick really well. Want to see it?”
         Frank put on his best pleading face and peered up at Suzie like a dog that had just slobbered all over its master’s best pair of sneakers.
         “No thanks,” she answered quickly, but apparently not too quickly for Frank’s mind that was already traveling three speeds too fast.
         He sprang up off the log he was resting on and immediately thrust a fanned out deck of cards into Suzie’s face.
         “Pick a card,” he commanded with a grand flourish that was intended to make him look regal, but instead made him partially tip over.
         Reluctantly, Suzie took one of the offered cards. It was unlike any other card she had ever seen in a deck of playing cards. For one thing, this card said, “Frank Sparks, Professional Leprechaun Hunter and Surgeon” on it.
         “Uh,” she said, “I think I got one of your business cards.”
         Frank looked quizzically over at her and then back to the rest of the cards in his hand. “Yeah, I think that’s what’s supposed to happen. No, wait. Oh, dang it!”
         Frustrated, Frank threw the entire deck in the nearby camp fire. He sulked back to his log, threw himself down and began to cry.
         “Oh, boo hoo,” he cried, stopping often to blow his runny nose on his sleeve. “I’m such a failure. I can’t do hobo magic. Wah! And I stink at applied mathematics. And I never even caught a leprechaun.”
         This surprised Suzie the most because she thought, surely if he had a card, he must have some experience. At least, that’s what her father always told her. Softly, she scooted just a hair closer to Frank and attempted to console him after her own fashion.
         “Hey, quit crying. You’re really annoying me with all that blubbering and stuff.”
         She wasn’t really good at consoling, but she figured she gave it an effort. And, feeling the force of her effort, Frank dabbed at his eyes with the edge of his shirt and glanced up at her like a freshly beaten puppy dog.
         “Do you really think I could be good at something?”
         “Now hold on there,” Suzie warned, “I didn’t say anything about you being good at anything. Let’s not get crazy.”
         “Oh, you’re right. You’re right, of course. I’m not good at anything. My mother warned me when I left home. She said, ‘Frank, what are you thinking? Did the fall off the roof really knock your brains loose? You should stay here, Frank. Be a surgeon, like your father.” But did I listen? No. I just added the surgeon part onto my business cards to look official. With the exception of a few unnecessary surgeries, I’ve never done that either. Oh, boo hoo.”
         And Frank started off on a crying spree that would have made a fountain jealous. It was at that moment, however, that Frank’s Colon returned. It took one look at the spouting mess that was Frank then strode angrily up to Suzie’s feet.
         “Look what you’ve done! This poor, lovable shnook, who’s never hurt anyone, who’s only been kind and generous to a fault, and you’ve ground him up and spit him out like an unwanted after dinner mint. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
         “But I didn’t do…” Suzie began, but it was too late because the Colon was on a rant.
         “We bend over backwards to help you people. We provide a nice cushy bottom for you to fall on after you exit a big blue cloud and fall into our camp site from out of nowhere I might add and this is what we get. Well, you can take your high and mighty posturing, you can your oh so snooty selves and shove off.”
         Faintly, Frank lifted an arm. “No wait, it wasn’t all her fault. I was just groveling in self pity.”
         “Oh,” answered Frank’s Colon , “Okay then.” And it wandered off toward the sleeping Cleotus to resume its kicking and occasionally stuff dry leaves in his shirt.
         After an awkward silence, broken only by soft tap-tap-tapping of the colon’s foot on Cleotus’ face, Suzie decided to take a leap into Frank country.
         “So,” she said, “I guess we’ll just be getting along then.”
         In response, Frank fell immediately to his knees. “Noooo!” He cried out like the wailing of four thousand foul winds. “Take me with you. I’ve just got to get out of here. I mean, sure, the colon’s good company and all, but I need other human interaction. I want to get out of this smelly pit I call an existence and live. I want to live! Please?”
         “Why don’t you just leave on your own?” Suzie asked.
         “That’s an interesting story,” Frank began and was immediately cut off by the approaching diesel that was Suzie.
         “Never mind. I don’t need to know that badly. Okay, when Cleotus wakes up, we’re out of here. But I’ve got to warn you, if you slow us down, if you start to smell funny or begin telling bad jokes, then we’re tossing you to the curb like a sack of last year’s potato peelings. Do we have an understanding?”
         Frank rushed forward to kiss her feet. “Oh, yes,” he blubbered like a whale. “Anything. Just take me with you. I thank you, my liege.”
         Suzie quickly yanked her feet away. “And there will be none of that,” she declared.
         With obedience reminiscent of the best Bassett Hounds, Frank rolled over onto his back and allowed Suzie to scratch his belly. After getting his leg back under control, Frank flipped himself right side up and slinked back to his log, where he immediately began to pick his nose.
         Suddenly, from out of nowhere, like a watermelon shot from a cannon, the sky turned dark as a Frank’s toenail polish, a lone ferret began howling in the distance and it began to rain fish.