22 August 2026
2006
R. Linda (HAPPY BIRTHDAY MUSIE):
I basically locked meself in me office to get away from the craziness that was infesting me abode. Yes, me wife pounded pathetically on me office door for me to come out, or she was going to get a ladder and have her mother climb through me window to chase me out. Yup, that's what she threatened.
I reluctantly opened me door and let her in, BUT I locked it behind her so no one else could enter.
"YOU invited your two cohorts to stay, and YOU disappear, leaving ME to entertain THEM."
"Tonya, I'd be so sorry, but if I am with them, I will become a raging alcoholic or worse, a murderer. I just can't do it."
"Stop it!" She then sighed and sat down.
I knew she wasn't venturing back out there if she could help it. So that left the two miscreants with me, little grey-haired, apple-cheeked Mam, and HER mother, the Dragon, and luckily the three kiddos were all at summer camp, so they couldn't be corrupted by the two insane houseguests.
"You do know that within an hour your mother will be in the kitchen poisoning their food and my mother will be behind the curtains hiding."
"Now that's a thought and a picture," I said. "Okay, okay, I will go out there, try to find something for them to do."
"Here's a thought, why don't you three take a nice scenic drive to the Cape and spend a few nights there?"
Ah, I could see what she was doing; she was getting rid of the male population of the house so she and the two ladies (and I use that term sparingly on the Dragon) could have peace and quiet in the abode by themselves.
'Uh . . . no. You are not making me drive several hours in a car with those two. I'd be a crazy person by the end of the driveway, so no."
"You need to think of something to do with them." She cried, exasperated.
"Well, I could make that eye doctor appointment for Robbie. Get them both out of the house for a little bit. What harm can they do in a doctor's office, eh?"
"Yes, Gabe, you do that." And with that, she got up, unlocked me door, held it open for me, and escorted me to the kitchen, where Robbie, at least, was eating everything we had.
A little background here: After the 'haunted house' craziness of the night before, and after Sam and Ms. Jaio left (which was before she found out what hand Sam had in scaring the hell out of her - oh what I wouldn't have given to be a fly in the car on that drive home), and Dragon took her chuckling and self-satisfied self to bed, the two crazies were in the kitchen having thirds and fourths on dessert and regaling me poor little grey-haired Mam with what went on in the house. This rancorous retelling had finally got to the Weasil because Robbie made a fool out of him, and the Weasil was not taking kindly to it. Suddenly, without warning (but I saw it coming just by the slits for eyes the Weasil was sporting and the deep frown on his mouth as he looked at his oblivious tattling friend), I knew that no good was coming Robbie's way. Just as Weasil was about to poke Robbie in the shoulder, Robbie shifted position and got a finger (with some force) in the eye. That had to hurt; I saw it and wow!
Well, Mam got a cold cloth, Weasil was saying sorry (and I knew he didn't mean it), Robbie was wailing and holding the eye like it was falling out of the socket. A sleepy Tonya just stood there looking like a Cheshire Cat with a smirk on her face, but then realising her appearance she bolted into, "Oh, that must have smarted, here let me help."
But she didn't. She ran over to the sink to watch me Mam wring a cold cloth out, then watched as Mam gently took Robbie's hand from his very swollen, red eye and placed the cold compress over it, cooing Mam comforting words.
"Well, that's taken care of, I'm off to bed," I announced to the women's horror.
"Me too!" Weasil said we both walked out and went our separate ways.
So this morning when I walked down to breakfast, the first thing I saw was this gigantic bulging white bandage over Robbie's eye. I wanted to turn around and get in my car and drive away to Dunkin', but I had been seen by me apple-cheeked, grey-haired Mam, so I had to go in there. Weasil was slumped over a gigantic coffee cup and looking sheepish.
I went to pour meself a cuppa joe, but the pot was empty. I held it up and turned to look at the giant cup Weasil had. He must have poured the whole pot into that cup, since none of us will let him drink directly from the coffee pot!
Not hiding me displeasure, I slammed around making another pot and standing in front of it to make sure the coffee glutton didn't get up for a refill.
"So Robbie, how's the eye?" I asked while I waited.
"Dinnae fash yersel'." Said he, which means not to worry, but in this case, just looking at the size of that bandage, well . . .
Without losing a beat, the Weasil says to me, "Whit's the craic?"
"I be askin' after Robbie's eye is all," I said. "Robbie, do ye need to see a doctor?"
"Aye, would be a good idea." He said as Weasil scowled at the news.
"I'll luck one oop fer the laddie," me Mam volunteered, sliding the biggest omelette I'd ever seen from fry pan to Robbie's plate. Weasil looked put out that she was going to all this trouble for Robbie and not him.
So later, armed with this memory, I found the two still in the kitchen, me Mam cooking away God knew what Scottish delicacy she could think of to make Robbie feel better (who was milking this for all he was worth), meanwhile, making Weasil feel as guilty as Weasil could ever feel about that emotion, which wasn't very guilty, just a tad.
"Did ye find a doctor, or no?" I asked.
"Oh, aye, we did. Got an appointment at 2." Robbie said.
I glanced at me watch.
"Well, it's 1:15, so ye better get finished here and get a move on if you're going to make it." I said, as I watched me Mam turn to me and mouth, 'bless you."
Somehow, I got roped into driving them both to Manchester to see an optometrist. Well, not somehow, Tonya made sure I was driving them because, "We don't want them to get lost." Oh, yes, we do.
Once we had checked in, we were instantly taken to a room. I say 'we' because Robbie insisted we two support him. It seems Robbie laid it on thick; it was an emergency and needed to be seen straight away. The technician came in, gently removed the huge bandage, and pointed a penlight in his eye, which made him baulk. She then explained she was putting drops in his eyes to numb the pain so she could proceed with the preliminary exam before "doctor comes in."
Well, she got her prelim in and left us to wait for doctor. That had to be the most pain-filled 20 minutes I've spent in a long time. Robbie got out of his chair and walked over to the eyedrops.
"Hum, numbing drops," he said, "ye wanna 'ave a laugh?"
"Sure," Weasil said.
"Sit in the chair, let's numb those eyeballs." And Weasil did, and Robbie squeezed the drops in as I sat there speechless, too scared to stop him.
"Oh! Hold on, Weaz. Look at dessie, the ones that make yer eye whites turn yellow, and then yer eyes glow in the dark!"
"Give way wit 'em," Weasil said, putting his head back as dumbarse squeezed some drops in.
"You both have to stop this!" I said, getting up. I took the drops away from Robbie, capped them and put them back.
"I suppose dess means ye dunt want any yersel?" Robbie said.
I started a tirade on what they were both thinking and such that he finally put a hand in front of me face and said, "Haud yer wheesht! Keep the heid aboot ye."
I muttered under me breath, "Numb drops for dumb drops."
The doctor entered just seconds later. If he had been a second earlier, he would have caught the two messing with his eyedrops.
Robbie's prognosis was good. He had sustained quite the poke, but the eye would be fine in a day or so and didn't need any drops (which was music to me ears; I had visions of both of them squeezing off rounds in me dog's eyes and such). As the doctor went to turn the light back on, he had turned it off for his exam, he stopped and looked at Weasil, his hand on the light switch. I looked at Weasil, then Robbie turned in his chair and looked at Weasil. The laddie's eyes were bright yellow and glowing in the dark.
"What on earth—"
Weasil blinked at him.
"Wot?"
"Your eyes."
"Wot bout me eyes?"
The doctor stepped closer.
Robbie suddenly became very interested in the floor tile.
I became very interested in Robbie becoming very interested in the floor tile as well.
"Have you been having any problems with YOUR vision?" the doctor asked.
"Uh . . . no."
"Any pain?"
"Uh . . . no."
"Blurred vision?"
"Nooo, why?"
The doctor leaned closer, and Weasil leaned back and as far away as the chair allowed.
"Your sclera are extremely yellow."
"Me WOT?"
"The whites of your eyes. You're not a liver patient, are you?"
Weasil's hands flew to his face. "WOT'S WRONG WIT ME EYES, DOC?"
"I don't know yet."
That was it. The Weasil went white. "IMA GOIN' BLIND!"
"Naw, naw," Robbie said soothingly. "Dinnae fash yoursel'."
I looked at Robbie hard, and he looked back at me. The corner of his mouth twitched.
The doctor reached for his penlight, and Weasil shot backwards in the chair.
"WAIT! Is this from pokin' 'em in the eye? Can ye catch sumthin' frum pokin' sumbody in the eye?"
"No."
"Could me eyeballs fall out?"
The doctor stared at him. I stared at him. Robbie turned his back because his shoulders had started shaking. Then the doctor looked toward the counter. At the bottles. Then at Weasil. At Robbie. And, finally, ME!
"Did someone put fluorescein in his eyes?"
Silence, absolute, beautiful silence.
Then Robbie, the treacherous bastard, pointed at Weasil and said, "He volunteered."
"I DINT KNOW IT TURNED YER FECKIN' EYES THAT YELLOW!"
The doctor flipped the light switch and closed his eyes for a moment. I knew that look. I'd been wearing it since these two arrived.
Ten minutes later, we were escorted out of the office with Robbie under strict instructions to leave his injured eye alone. Weasil, under equally strict instructions not to put anything else in his eyes, and both of them under what I strongly suspect was an unspoken instruction never to return.
On the drive home, Weasil spent fifteen solid minutes checking his eyes in the vision mirror.
"Are they still yellow?"
"Yup," I said.
Five minutes later—
"Still?"
"Yup."
Another five—
"Now?"
I glanced in the rear-view mirror.
Robbie was sitting beside him with his good eye closed, trying desperately not to laugh.
"Oh, aye," I said. "Brighter, actually."
"BRIGHTER?"
I smiled and turned me eyes back to the road.
Gabe
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