Once upon a time there was a King. You might have guessed—he was greedy and fat and enjoyed a good orgy.
‘What’s an orgy Grandma?’
‘It’s…’
Little Girl looked up at Grandma.
‘Here lick this bowl.’ And Grandma passed Little Girl a silver bowl, a brownie batter slick over it.
‘You know, Mother said we shouldn’t make cake today. We should have something healthy for breakfast.’
‘I don’t give a flying…’
Little Girl held up her hand, ‘And you’re not supposed to swear around me anymore, remember Grandma.’
‘Good, then I can’t explain what an orgy is.’
Little Girl looked puzzled. Grandma sat on a chair at the kitchen table and lit up a joint.
‘But I should at least finish my story…’
Little Girl sat down in the chair beside Grandma. She held the silver bowl in her fleshy pink arms and licked at it like a dog drinking.
King was a right prick. A real piece of work. He got people’s heads and hands chopped off for things like not bowing to him or having a lisp.
‘I had a lisp! Remember Grandma! And whenever I didn’t want my lisp to be there, it would! Remember. Can you imagine, that King would have chopped off my head!’
‘Or your hands,’ Grandma said, ‘Don’t know which be worse really.’
Little girl looked at Grandma like she was not sure what Grandma meant. Of course having no head would be worse.
One day King was given a mirror as a gift from another King.
Flick. Flick! Grandma re-fired her joint.
A gold trimmed one. Real nice! King looked good in it too. Made his… well. Made parts of him look much bigger than they were.
‘His muscles?’ Little Girl asked and Grandma nodded.
King’s mirror made his muscles look lovely and big.
Grandma took a drag. She blew smoke from her nostrils like a dragon.
King liked to rub……. Muscle oil over his body in front of the mirror. That was his favourite thing to do. King became quite in love with his mirror, and no longer enjoyed many of the castle’s activities because he looked so much bigger in his new mirror than he did in real life. He stopped holding orgies.
‘What is that Grandma?’
‘It’s ah…a muscle flexing competition!’ Grandma looked pleased with herself. She stubbed out the end of her joint.
‘Oh. Ok.’
All of a sudden the door opened and there stood Little Girl’s mother— Grandma’s daughter—laden down with shopping bags. Out of the hemp weave bags poked green leaves and carrot tops. Shiny apples and stuff that read ‘Gluten free’ or ‘Organic.’ Mother struggled under the weight. And puffed from the rush she had made. She began waving hands at the air. Screwed her nose up.
‘I only popped to shops! And you’ve made brownie batter and,’ she coughed, then whispered, ‘smoked in here again.’
‘You were gone forever. Thought we’d starve. Might still!’ and she nodded to the bags. Screwed her nose up.
‘Healthy. Organic. All that jazz,’ Mother said.
‘I got plenty organic green,’ and she took out a foil roll from her handbag.
‘Put it away!’
‘Tell me some more of the story Grandma, about King.’
‘What King? What story? Oh god…’ Mother began packing away groceries, shaking her head. But before so, bundled all of her fresh produce together and took a photo with her IPhone. She used a nice vintage filter.
‘Morning at farmers market,’ she whispered, punching at her phone with quick thumbs.
‘Farm this,’ Grandma went to pull the middle finger but Little Girl slapped it down.
‘Don’t. You promised Grandma. Now come on. Tell me about King.’
‘Where was I?’
‘He didn’t like to go to orgies anymore.’
‘Right.’ Grandma looked up at Mother and seen she was busy with her phone and hadn’t heard Little Girl say orgy. Mother was smiling down at her IPhone.
King only liked to do things when he could see himself doing things, and the only time he looked good was in his new mirror. He didn’t have fun anymore unless he could look in his gold framed mirror and see he was having fun. But his mirror was heavy and intrusive so he hardly went anywhere.
‘Did he ever get to have his orgy again?’
Mother looked up from her phone.
‘What. What sort of story are you telling her? Orgies! Mother! You promised! Best behavior or back at the home. And you won’t be smoking there.’
‘I smoke wherever I please!’
‘Yes. So it seems. That’s what got you kicked out of retirement home! I mean seriously, who in the hell gets kicked out of retirement home?’
Little Girl saw Grandma’s hand twitch, she began folding Pinky, Index and Ring behind Thumb.
Little Girl whispered, ‘Don’t.’
‘Oh, oh how lovely.’ Mother shoved her iPhone in Little Girl’s face, ‘Look, Neighbors are out for a picnic.’
Mother sat at the table, swiped the bowl away from her Little Girl. Huffed.
‘Let’s go for a picnic!’ she said.
Then she stood and began chopping carrots and apples and peppers. She cubed organic goat cheese. And oiled olives. In a fury she coated strawberries with melted 85% organic dark chocolate. She chilled coconut water and put handfuls of mint in with it. Squeezed lemon juice. Buttered sourdough rye wheat-free bread with Lewis Road Creamery Butter.
Grandma smoked another joint while Mother took pictures of herself preparing the picnic.
They drove to the beach.
The picnic blanket was vintage and would make the colour of the neon plastic cups pop, Mother said. The sun was up and the sea looked so blue and green and gorgeous. Mother looked at Little Girl’s hair lifted lightly on the breeze and shining in the sun. Mother saw how beautiful Little Girl was in this light. Grandma looked lovely too. She sat in a fold out chair and had a wide-brimmed straw hat on her head. Mother had set out the picnic beautifully too.
Grandma looked happy. She decided to leave her lunch-time joint in her pocket and not distress her daughter—one of her favourite pastimes was to distress her daughter. She felt—something, in choosing not to rain on her daughter’s energetic gesture. A picnic!
And Little Girl was happy!
The picnic looked delicious and Little Girl was so happy to be out with Grandma and Mother. Her two favourite people. Though they were pork and cheese. That’s what Little Girl thought. Pork and cheese, those two!
Little Girl reached for a slice of apple. Mother batted away her hand. Making a sharp slapping sound.
‘Wait!’ she rummaged about in her bag, ‘Wait! Just let me! I just need a quick picture before we hoe in…’ she smiled at Little Girl meekly. An apology for slapping her hand.
‘Fuck the photo! Look! It’s going to get ruined! The sun is melting the chocolate,’ Grandma said from under her country-style wide-brimmed hat.
The wind sprayed sand over the picnic. And blew Grandma’s hat off, which cartwheeled gleefully off down the beach.
‘Wait!’ Mother rummaged on. ‘Damn it! Can you believe it? I forgot my phone! I need to go back and get it. What a waste of time this all was. Ruined!’
Little Girl’s heart sank and Grandma, squinting away the sunlight, lit her joint. The sliced apple had started to brown. Little Girl reached for a strawberry. The chocolate was melting. It still tasted good on her tongue. Just not in her heart, because Mother was not smiling.
A couple came walking along the beach, hand in hand, at the water’s edge. Mother recognized them and stood up. She waved out. ‘Hiya, Mr. and Mrs. Acquaintance! Come up!’
They wandered up from the water’s edge to the picnic. They had lovely smiles which they wore on happy sun-kissed faces.
‘Oh gosh! This looks lovely!’ Mrs. Acquaintance said.
‘Just a wee picnic,’ Mother smiled, ‘Help yourself!’
Mr. Acquaintance took a cube of organic goat cheese and pressed it into an oiled olive. ‘Yum! Amazing. What a lovely spread.’
Mother smiled.
Mr. and Mrs. Acquaintance ignored Grandma’s offer of a puff. Mother asked Grandma where her hat had gone, and suggested she go find it. Then she spun sunnily back to Mr. and Mrs. Acquaintance.
Little Girl ate quietly, as Mother talked of her spontaneous idea to make a picnic after a trip to Farmers Market.
Farm this. Little Girl thought.
Grandma whispered, ‘Lucky they came along. To put other eyes on it. We might never have had a bite. Not that I am. She can bite this.’ Grandma pulled out her Middle Finger to the turned back of Mother. Little Girl didn’t stop her.
‘Grandma, King never got to have another orgy did he?’
‘No, he didn’t.’ She held out her joint to Little Girl, ‘Puff?’
Little Girl shook her head.