The Garden Gnome Part 2

The phone rang. Sylvia sneezed for about the 200th time from all the dust in the air. She tried to remember where she had last put down the handset for the telephone. She was hard of hearing and couldn’t quite figure out where the ringing was coming from.

Her pure white hair was sticking up and out in about 20 different directions — she had missed her last hair appointment with Jilly — and vaguely in the back of her mind she knew that she must look like a bit of a madwoman.

She concentrated and followed the ringing in the room until she finally stopped in front of a box filled with balls of yarn. She pulled the phone out the tangle of strings, muttering to herself about her stupidity.

“Hello,” she said at last.

“Sylvia??”

“Y…e…h??”

It’s Bob.”

“SPEAK UP…I can’t HEAR you!”

“It’s your NEIGHBOR BOB!!”

“WHAT? Hold on a sec. I need to turn up the volume on this thing.”

Bob looked down at Gil who was by now back on the ground. “She put me on hold.”

The little man was very still. “Gil?” Bob reached down and touched the gnome’s shoulder. It was hard as a rock.

“Crap!” Bob pulled his hand quickly away as if he’d received an electrical shock. “I’ve been talking to a damn statue!”

Wally growled. “It’s okay, guy….”

Suddenly there was a loud voice. Disoriented, Bob stared at the Garden Gnome and then realized that the sound was coming from his cell phone. “Hello? Who’s this?”

“It’s Sylvia. WHO’s THIS?? You called ME, Bud!”

Bob muttered a few epithets directed at the gnome.

“What??”

Bob sighed. “Sylvia, it’s your neighbor…Bob Cooley.”

“Bob Goulet? Yeh, right…and I’m Peggy Lee. What do you want?”

“It’s your next-door neighbor, Sylvia,” Bob shouted. “On the other side of the 6-foot fence.”

“Why? Are you trapped?”

Bob sighed. “No, I’m standing right outside of your front window.”

Bob peered in & did a little wave.

Sylvia looked up, startled. She squinted through her thick-as-a-jam-jar eyeglasses at the tall, slender man standing outside. “Geez…you scared the crap out of me. I didn’t even know I had a neighbor. I thought that place had been empty for years.”

“Could you just please let me in? It’s hot out here and I need a glass of water. Wally does too.”

“Wally? Who’s Wally??”

©January 2011 by Phyllis J. Hanniver

Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.

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About pjh95811

I am a writer and poet living in California. I love cats, dogs, nature, poetry, spirituality and the Pacific Ocean.
This entry was posted in Fiction, Humor, Satire and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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