Puzzle Piece 2
503 Words
PUZZLE PIECE 2
A SONG TO PUZZLE THROUGH
While Dad and Tobes bond,
I scissor fragments of time,
Trying to figure,
To decide if we are safe.
Perhaps a song might help me?
Toby’s back in the house so Dad and his furry pal are sharing a man-and-dog moment in the kitchen. Toby’s still barking, his way of hollering that he is somewhat distraught that he didn’t get a chance for a walk.
Dad crouched down to Toby’s eye level to give him a mournful, forgive-me look. “Sorry, pal, it’s still dangerous out there, the journos may be lurking.” He gave Toby’s fur a brisk pat, and Toby responded by licking his face. Dad patted him some more, he snacked on some crisps, poured himself a beer and put a bowl of food down for Toby.
Toby followed him into the lounge where they companionably rested while Dad did one of his much-loved crosswords.
Dad and Toby have that type of relationship, mutual appreciation of food and a keen devotion to each other, whereas Mum can’t abide cooking and isn’t much one for eating, or crosswords either. Well, not unless someone else prepares a feast for her, or fills in the gaps in the crosswords!
I left them to it and ran upstairs. Alone in my bedroom, I lay on my bed, surrounded by tattooed posters of rock legends. My eyes settled on Green Day’s Billy Joe as I muddled through my thoughts. I’ve been cutting newspaper articles about Dad, Mum and me to make a collage of short poems, song lyrics and art.
The common words are age, Dad, weird, strange, unnatural phenomena, dysfunctional, Scott family, curious, neighbours, fantastical, truth.
You get the idea! They’re the new Scott buzz words.
I’ve spread them out on my bed. My cat Shadow plonked himself on top of them. His black fur and white patch on his neck combined well with the stark contrast of the newsprint. I imagined he’d look good in a photo shoot for a magazine: Black cats are sleek, beautiful and mysterious. Shadow sprawled out next to me, keeping me company and hiding away from Toby.
Instead of creating an artistic collage, I wrote a little song on Dad’s guitar, which used to be covered in dust and sadness before I altered the path of our fortunes with Bloodstone magic…
The song goes like this:
Our family fades to strange.
Who are you now?
I guess I know you, but…
You may stay or go.
You disappeared unnatural.
Came back new, dysfunctional.
I guess I know you, but…
I can’t tell what you’ll do.
Dad’s a living phenomenon
Of our weird truth
I guess I know you, but
I can’t tell if you’re OK.
Esme’s fantastical,
Bound by bloodless ties.
I guess I know you, but…
Blood doesn’t promise truth.
Our neighbours rock up
Shaking gossip within rumours
I guess I know you, but
The paparazzi don’t know the truth
Mum was super hysterical
Now she grins too much
I guess I know you, but…
You used to shout a lot.
Esme’s trapped
Scared to tell the truth
I guess I know you but
I long to set you free.
Shadow walks in darkness
In purrs he speaks
I guess I know you, but…
Who the hell are you?
- Writer
