Tuesday 30 August 2011

French's Bible

French and Bruce Fish were having a pretty good day.  They had found an old suit complete with a sharp fedora.  They decided to dress up one of the robots from last summer as Frank Sinatra.  It was pretty great, lots of people swung by and complimented "the art".  Bruce Fish set up a record player and played some old Rat Pack records.

Rose Fish came by for her usual morning coffee and bible study.  She saw the new art project and said: "I Did it My Way" was the theme song of hell.  I've never seen French get mad at Rose before, but he just got up and stormed off.

He left his bible on an old crate.  I've seen it many times, but I never really looked through it before.  There were many photos, notes, poems, hockey cards and even dried leaves inside. There were also quite a few items from churches services of note: marriages, funerals, and baptisms (all of them from many years ago). One of the photos is us on Canada Day when we were still in our teens.

French picked it up later at the cottage; he shoved it under his truck seat.

Posted to Imperfect Prose

Wednesday 17 August 2011

Another Dump Summer

It is deep into summer and Bruce Fish's dump is a humming.  He has broken in a new employee the last few weeks: French. 

French doesn't have great prospects for a job this September so he socking away some cash and hanging with Bruce and Rose Fish at the county dump.  French is in charge of recycling.  He sorts and stacks tonnes of the cottagers recyclables.  When I saw him he was sitting on a stool flipping cans into a bin.  He had his own full can of Budweiser in one hand and was chucking empties with the other.  He was pretty mellow and buzzed.

Bruce Fish puttered around as usual.  This year his dump art theme is music.  I'll have to check out how that goes next weekend.

Rose comes over at 10:30 with coffee, muffins and Bibles.  French complained bitterly, but Rose lets him choose the book for the reading.

I'm sure he says "Job" every time.

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Monday 1 August 2011

Church Parking Lot Patrol

The last few weeks there has been a rash of car break-ins during church.  The youth pastor's car was the most recent target.  There is nothing much to take, but the broken windows are costly.

I was telling French about this and he said that he'd do a patrol.  The next Sunday he was good to his word.  He ducked down low, sipped his Tim Horton's and waited.  I went into the service.

I couldn't wait for the service to be over and see how French's vigil went. 

French was still in his truck.  I asked him if his patrol was a bust...it wasn't.  Some lads had come by and were trying to bust in again.  I didn't see the beaten bodies of the thugs.  French filled me in: "Oh I knew them lads"...he started up his truck and rolled out.  As he drove out he said: "They decided to work the Catholic Church instead".

Posted to...Imperfect Prose