Natural Blonde

a Lulu & Friends story


500 words inspired by the Weekend Wordsmith prompt “that’s typical”

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Benni sat cross-legged on the floor of the short hallway between the bedroom and the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, examining her reflection in the full length mirror propped against the wall in front of her.  She had a date with a new fella tonight and wanted to look perfect.  She double checked her makeup and hair, her head and shoulders framed by the halo of hairspray glistening on the wall behind her.

Lulu sat on the sofabed in the living room, turning pages in a magazine and half watching television, waiting for her turn in the bathroom.  She was going out tonight, too.  She and Lily were going to dinner at First Wok and then maybe a movie.

“What do you think?” said Benni, posing in the doorway to her bedroom in a white cotton dress with black polka dots.  “It’s new.  Isn’t it cute?”

“I can see your underwear,” said Lulu.

“No you can’t,” said Benni.

“I can see the pattern of the lace and the pearl in the middle of the little satin bow in the front,” said Lulu.

“But they’re white,” said Benni.

“And I can see them perfectly through the dress,” said Lulu.  “Go put on another pair.”

“How ‘bout these?” said Benni.

“Nope,” said Lulu.  “Purple flowers on a light blue background.  Don’t you have anything neutral?  Something beige?”

“I’m not gonna wear granny pants on a date,” said Benni.

“Who would know?” said Lulu.

Benni sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.

“Ok,” said Lulu.  “What about pantyhose.  Do you have any with a control top and a built-in panty?”

“Just black,” said Benni.  “Would that go?  The polka dots are black.”

“You can’t wear black hose with a white dress and white shoes,” said Lulu.

“Why not?” said Benni.  “Black and white always go together.”

“Don’t you have nude or ivory?” said Lulu.

“Maybe I’ll just skip it,” said Benni, tossing the panties into her room.

“You can’t go out in just a dress and shoes unless the building’s on fire,” said Lulu.  “I can tell you’re not wearing a bra.”

"You have too many rules,” said Benni.  “Who died and made you Miss Manners?”

“It’s gross,” said Lulu, “but at least you’re a natural blonde.”

“This is so typical,” said Benni.  “You’re jealous because I met someone and you’re just going out with Lily and will be home alone in time for Saturday Night Live as usual.”

“And this is so typical of you,” said Lulu, “starting up with a new guy before the last one’s barely out the door.

“What do you care?” said Benni.  “Anyway, I think I look cute and with any luck you won’t see me ‘til after brunch tomorrow.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” said Lulu.

“Bitch,” said Benni, picking up her purse and flouncing out of the apartment, letting the door slam behind her.

“Typical,” said Lulu, heading for the shower and an hour’s peace before leaving to meet Lily over on First Avenue.

##

Copyright © 2012 Lulubelle B

I Ain't No Challah Back Girl

A Lulu & Friends Story


with apologies to Gwen Stefani…

_______________________

Lulu watched the door from a table in the restaurant’s bar, her club soda and lime untouched.  He was ten minutes late.

She’d let Lola talk her into a blind date.  Lo was determined to find Lulu a beau.  She and Travis were still all lovey-dovey after years and years together and she wanted the same for Lulu.  Actually, Lulu was beginning to think Travis was what her father would’ve called “a fig newton” of Lola’s imagination.  Lulu’d been in Dallas six months and had yet to meet Travis. There was always an excuse. Travis had to work.  Travis was visiting his family.  Travis was out with the boys.  Lulu referred to him as The Phantom.

“Do you know him?” said Lu, when Lola asked her to go out with her client’s cousin.

“I know of him,” said Lo.  “He’s Jewish.  He was born in Queens.”

“That’s it?” said Lu.  “Would you go out with some guy if all I could tell you was that he’s a Christian and he was born in Louisiana?”

“Of course not,” said Lo, “I’ve got my Travis.  Pleeeease Lulu.  Just one drink.  He’s Jewish.  Please…”

Lulu had waited long enough.  She stood, took her car keys and sunglasses from her purse and turned to leave a five on the table for the waitress.  She felt a presence at her shoulder.

“Are you Lulu?  Hi, I’m Mike”

His majesty had arrived.  Lulu turned to meet her prince.  She saw a balding, 40-ish guy in jeans, sneakers and a softball jersey.  Bald wasn’t a problem.  Captain Picard made her all tingly.  She tuned in every week to watch Jean-Luc “make it so”.

“Sorry I’m late.  Traffic on Beltline was a mess,” said Mike.  “I’ve only got about twenty minutes.  Got a game tonight.”  He pointed to his jersey.

He looked her up and down.  “You really look Jewish.  My mother would love you, not like the shiksas I usually date.”

Lulu sat, toying with her keys and sunglasses.

“So what’s your deal?” said Lulu.  “They told me you were born in Queens.  I lived there for a while.”

“I’m an accountant,” said Mike, “but I they let me go last year.  Bookkeeping irregularities.”

“What do you do now?” said Lulu.

“I just hang out and go to my court dates,” said Mike.

“Court dates?” said Lulu.

“It’s nothing,” said Mike.  “Did they tell you about my roommate?”

“Roommate?” said Lulu

“She’s my ex,” said Mike.  “We broke up.  She still lives with me but it won’t be a problem.  That’s why I play softball, to stay out of the house.  I joined enough teams so I have practice every weeknight.  I have games all weekend.”

“Uh-huh,” said Lulu.

“We could get together lunchtime,” said Mike.  “I could call you and you could come over and then go back to work.”

“I don’t think so,” said Lulu.

She stood and walked toward the door.  Mike followed her.

“I’m not interested,” said Lulu.  “Really. Don’t ever call me.”

##

Copyright © 2012, Lulubelle B

Diagnosis

a Lulu & Friends story
May is Melanoma Awareness Month

500 words inspired by the Weekend Wordsmith prompt “fear”

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Lulu sat fully clothed in her dermatologist’s exam room, staring at the doctor.   She must have misunderstood him.

“Melanoma?” she said.  “I have skin cancer?”

Lulu found the mole on her scalp a couple of weeks earlier after accidentally banging her head with a hairbrush.  Her scalp bled.  Pressing the area with a tissue, she felt a small lump.  A few days later it was still seeping, so she called the office for appointment to have it looked at.  The doctor hadn’t seemed alarmed but said he wanted to send a sample to the lab.

Lulu waited a week for the nurse to call with the results.  Then she waited another day.  And another.  On the tenth day after the biopsy she called the office.  The nurse told Lulu to come in to talk to the doctor.

And now the doctor just said she had melanoma, the same skin cancer that killed her grandmother and her father.

No, no, not me, Lulu thought.  They were sun worshippers.  Not me.  I haven’t been in the sun in years.  Grandma played cards at the beach, sitting for hours basted with baby oil.  Dad spent most summer weekends lying on a lounge chair on the patio, spraying himself with the garden hose when he got too hot.  Not me.  I hate hot weather.  I stay inside in the air conditioning.

OK, she thought, when I lived in Texas I had to walk Lucky, but not in the middle of the day.  Neither of us liked the heat.  He did his stuff, then dragged me back inside.  We took our long walks in the evening when it was cooler and the sun wasn’t beating down.

The doctor was still talking, something about a twenty year lag between exposure and disease.

How do I tell Mom, thought Lulu.  How do I tell my brother?  It’s Mother’s Day weekend.  I can’t ruin Mother’s Day weekend.  I’ll fake it this weekend and tell them next week.

The doctor’s saying something about a referral to a surgeon.

Dad had melanoma on his leg removed and we thought he was fine.  Then he started having pain in his hips so bad he couldn’t work.  When they finally figured out it was cancer,  it was too late to operate.  Sometimes when you’ve got melanoma on your lower body it spreads to your pelvis.  But mine’s on my head.  Why do I need a surgeon if it’s just a mole on my scalp?  Is it going to spread to my brain?

Did he just say I also need a plastic surgeon, thought Lulu.  Grandma had part of her jaw removed.  Is mine going to spread to my face?

“You knew,” said Lulu.  “You knew what it was as soon as you saw it, didn’t you?”

The doctor nodded and looked away, blinking.

“We can’t handle it here,” he said, turning back and meeting her eyes.  “I’m so sorry.  You need a surgical oncologist.  It’s treatable, but sooner is better than later.”

##

Copyright © 2012, Lulubelle B

The Pantry

a Lulu & Friends story

500 words inspired by the Weekend Wordsmith prompt “hunger”
__________________________________

Lulu drove around to the side door of the community food pantry, grinned at her best friend Lola sitting in the passenger seat and tapped the horn.  From Lola’s window they had a view through the doorway and could see folks working inside.  Lu and Lo had spent the last hour at the nearby wholesale club, filling an oversized shopping cart, or “buggy”, as Lo insisted on calling it, with groceries from the pantry’s “How You Can Help” list.  It was a relatively cool summer Saturday in Far North Dallas, the temperature just over 85 degrees at 10am, but even with the car’s erratic air conditioner set at maximum Lulu wanted to get the perishables into the pantry’s refrigerators as soon as possible.

Tricia, the pantry’s manager, appeared in the doorway, clipboard and pen in hand.  Lulu popped the car’s trunk and walked around to the passenger side.  Lola rolled down her window.

“Hey Miss Trish,” said Lola.  “Got anybody to help bring this stuff inside?”

“Hey Miss Lo, Miss Lu,” said Tricia.  She turned to holler into the building. “Delivery!”

“Perishables in the back seat, non-perishables in the trunk,” said Lola.

A herd of teenaged boys and girls quickly unloaded the car and disappeared inside.

“Youth group service day,” said Tricia.  “Y’all wanna do some work before you go?”

Lulu and Lola followed Tricia into the building, past the makeshift office and through the maze of shelving units and glass-fronted refrigerators.

“I thought you’d have way more stuff,” said Lola.

“Donations are down,” said Tricia, “ ‘cause of the economy and all.  Fall’s our busiest time for donations with Thanksgiving and Christmas food drives, but summer’s harder for our clients.  When school’s out, breakfast and lunch programs are shut down, too.  Families need extra help feeding their kids, especially the last two weeks of the month.”

“That’s why we’re here,” said Lulu.  “What do you need us to do?”

The youth group was busy sorting groceries on tables in the center of the work area.

“Today the grownups are breaking down industrial-size product from our corporate donors into family-friendly packages,” said Tricia.  “The ladies at that table in the corner are repacking dried milk.  Or there’s a bunch of seasonings in restaurant packs that need tending to.

“So the choice is pack white powder into kilo bundles or dried herbs into nickel bags?” said Lola.

Tricia laughed.  “Trust me,” she said, “this ain’t no French Connection.  Better music in the 70s.”

“Well, we might could stay for a bit…” said Lo.

“I dunno,” said Lu, turning to look at the clock on the wall over the doorway.  “We’re supposed to meet Travis and Steve for the noon show at the Cinemark, and I have to drop you at your place, then go home and shower and get ready.  Plus Lucky’s gonna need a walk if I’m gone all afternoon.”

“Maybe next time,” said Lo, shrugging her shoulders and turning to follow Lu to the car.  “Driver’s in charge. Sorry.”

##

Copyright © 2012, Lulubelle B

Testimony: Ban The Tan

a Lulu & Friends story
May is Melanoma Awareness Month

500 words inspired by the efforts in several states to ban the use of tanning salons by persons under 18 years of age

_______________________________________________

Good afternoon Mr. Chairman and members of the Committee.

My name is Lulu and I’m here to ask you to support State Senate bill 12345 banning the use of tanning salons by minors.

I was diagnosed with melanoma, the most deadly skin cancer, five years ago when I was 47.  I used tanning salons for about a year in my late 20s.  I didn’t tan outdoors very much, particularly after age 30.

I call myself a “patient”, not a “survivor”.  Five years after diagnosis I’m still under the care of two oncologists and will be for the rest of my life.  If you’ve survived something, the threat has passed.  My threat of melanoma hasn’t passed.

I was surprised how many people I knew thought melanoma was no big deal.  They couldn’t believe I missed 12 weeks of work and used up all my short-term disability leave to have a mole removed.  A late-stage melanoma diagnosis is a life-changing event.  The treatment is painful and scary.

Within a month after accidentally finding my melanoma on my scalp over my left ear, I had two major surgeries.  There’s a wound at the primary site on my scalp that took a skin graft nearly 3-inches in diameter to close.  The surgeon also took out almost 50 lymph nodes from my neck and left me with a 7-inch scar that starts just above my clavicle and curves up and around behind my left ear.  There’s also a 5-inch scar on my torso where they took the skin graft.  I have permanent nerve damage in my face, neck, chest and shoulder.

After my surgeries I started 12-months of Interferon treatment, which causes physical exhaustion, mental depression and cognitive impairment.  The first month was at a chemo center.  Then I had to learn to give myself shots 3 times a week… for 11 months.  Hemorrhages from the Interferon almost caused me to loose my eyesight.  Luckily my ophthalmologist caught it in time and saved my vision.

At the end of my treatment a scan showed a lesion in my throat.  I had day-surgery so the surgeon could stick a scope down there to grab a sample to biopsy.  It was negative.  The year after that, there was a mole on my back that started looking strange.  Another negative biopsy.  This last October there was another “atypical” mole on my scalp.  Another day-surgery and a third negative biopsy.

As I said, the threat has not passed.  I’m still a patient.

Once melanoma gets into your bloodstream it can recur anywhere, striking vital organs including your brain.  I live with this every day, wondering if today is the day a few melanoma cells somewhere in my body will start attacking without my even knowing it.  I can’t give blood.  I can’t be an organ donor.

I urge you to support this bill to ban minors from using indoor tanning devices.  Help spare other families in our state the pain my family has suffered.  Save some lives.

Thank you.

##

(c) copyright 2012, Lulubelle B 

Mr. C and the Big D

a Lulu & Friends story

500 words inspired by the Weekend Wordsmith prompt “from here to there”

_________________________________________________________

“Get your purse. We’re going for a walk.”

Lulu looked up and saw her boss, Mr. C, standing in her office doorway.

“Get your purse,” Mr. C said. He turned and walked away.

Lulu pulled her purse from the bottom drawer of the desk and rushed to catch up.  Her pumps and the sloping corridors were a bad combination.  Company lore said the building on West End Avenue was originally an auto dealership, with ramps to drive the cars from floor to floor.  A later owner remodeled the interior as offices, but kept the ramps, using them as hallways.

Mr. C waited at the elevator.

“What’s happening?” said Lulu.

“Not here,” Mr. C said. “Outside.”

I’m getting fired, Lulu thought. I didn’t last a year with this lunatic.  He swears at everyone, stalks out of meetings, thinks we’re all idiots.

They rode to the lobby in silence. Mr. C stopped in the vestibule to light his pipe.

“Where are we going?” said Lulu.

“The Italian place,” said Mr. C, turning uptown.

I knew his reputation.  I  let myself be drawn in by the family photos in his office and the stories about his Cairn terrier named Muffin.  Now he’s firing me.

Mr. C held a chair for Lulu at a table in the empty restaurant.  The maitre d approached.

“Double scotch,” said Mr. C. “Order a drink.”

“It’s three o’clock,” she said.

“You need a drink,” he said.

“White wine, please,” said Lulu.

Somebody’s dead.  My family called him, and now he’s telling me.  Don’t cry.

“I need you to move to Dallas,” said Mr. C.

“But I live in New York,” said Lulu.  “I’ve always lived in New York.”

“Your job is moving to Dallas, whether you move with it or not,” said Mr. C.  “Everything’s moving eventually.”

How can I tell Mom?  She’ll freak out.  And what about my friends?  I don’t know anyone in Dallas.

“So you’re moving to Dallas, too?” said Lulu.  “Your wife is leaving your kids and grandkids?”

“Sales and the executives are staying here.  I’m staying here with my secretary and an analyst.  I need you to re-staff and run the department in Dallas.

I’m not ready to look for another job.  I’m not finished learning from you.  You’re the first boss who’s taught me more than how to move papers across my desk.

“How long do I have to decide?” said Lulu.

I hate hot weather.  I haven’t driven a car in years.  I’ll have to buy a car. I don’t know enough to buy a car.  I don’t want to move to Dallas.  I don’t want to move.  I don’t want to leave New York.

“We have to know before tomorrow’s staff meeting if the managers are on board.  We’re telling everyone else at 8:30.  You can’t tell anyone.  You have to look surprised like everyone else.”

“I can’t tell anyone?” said Lulu.

“You can tell your family,” said Mr. C.  “Don’t go back to the office.  Go home and decide.”

##

Copyright © 2012, Lulubelle B

Pizza Delivery

a Lulu & Friends story

500 words inspired by the Weekend Wordsmith prompt "pizza delivery"

_______________________________________________________________

“Hi Benni. It’s me,” said Lulu as she locked the apartment door behind her, kicked off her shoes, dropped her keys into the bowl on the bookcase and let her totebag fall to the floor. “I couldn’t get a seat on the bus tonight and I’ve got too much stuff in my bag. My back is killing me.

“I just saw Bobby the pizza guy in the hall. Please tell me you ordered a pie so I don’t have to cook or order in. I’m too tired to think about it.

“Nope,” said Benni as she tightened the belt on what Lulu recognized as her après-tryst kimono. “Bobby rang the bell about an hour ago with a pizza and a box of pastries. Where’s he from? Ray’s? Original Ray’s? Famous Ray’s? Famous Original Ray’s? I can never keep them straight. He said it was all paid for, but I didn’t order anything. I guess it was the wrong address. So, lucky for us – free dinner again, roomie.”

“Again?” said Lulu.

“Yeah. Happened last Thursday, too, when you were out with Lily. But no dessert last time,” said Benni. “And maybe the week before that, now that I think about it. You’d think all those delivery places could get the addresses right.”

“So Bobby shows up on Thursdays, the only day you don’t work late, with pizza that nobody ordered, and stays for an hour?” said Lulu.

“Well somebody must’ve ordered it. And who said anything about Bobby staying?” said Benni.

“Right,” said Lulu. “You usually lounge around the apartment after work in that skinny-mini robe with nothing under it and your hair all messed up.

“I was napping”, said Benni as she took a scrunchie from the kimono’s pocket and pulled her hair back into a ponytail.

“Smells like the magic pizza-enhancing herb might’ve had a role in that,” said Lulu as she sniffed the air. “It’s the same every week. Rarely has the Thursday night passed and nothing happened around here.”

“You’re imagining things,” said Benni.

“Hey, you can do what you want. I’m not judging. Just saying that pizza and weed with Bobby three Thursdays in a row is a thing. I think you’ve got a suitor,” said Lulu.

“You mean like when guys send you drinks in a club?” said Benni.

“I mean like when the pizza guy brings you free pizza,” said Lulu. “Bobby and Benni sitting in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g.”

“Well, he is kinda cute. And he smells good,” said Benni. “Homey. Like fresh baked bread.”

“And he delivers,” said Lulu.

“Do you think I could ask him to bring something else next time,” said Benni, “even if we’re not paying?”

“Like what?” said Lulu. “A twelve-inch sausage hero?”

“My favorite’s rigatoni with meatballs,” said Benni. “But maybe he’d want stuffed shells, with all that creamy ricotta. Mmm…

“Anyway, there’s some pizza left if you want some, and those Italian wedding cookies. Bobby mainly nibbled on the cream puffs and I ate the big cannoli.”

##

copyright (c) 2012 Lulubelle B

Breasticular Enhancification

a Lulu & Friends story

500 words inspired by a photo selected by Dive.

_____________________________________________

 “Lu, can I ask you something?” said Benni as she and Lulu walked home from the Food Emporium to the one-bedroom apartment they shared just north of 72nd street.  “Do you think it would be ok if I asked my dad to help pay for a breast enhancement?”

Damn it!  Lulu knew she should’ve hung back when she saw Benni on the check-out line, maybe hiding out in the dairy section until Benni’d left the store.  But no, she had to be a schmuckette and call out to her roommate, so now it looked like they where heading for the Benni Zone, a warped and confusing region where logic was suspended and common sense took a holiday.

“I didn’t know you wanted a boob job” said Lulu.  “You’re so petite and all in proportion.”

“Petite just means small.  When I lie on my back everything just disappears.  Look, I’ll show you” said Benni, putting down her grocery bags.

“What are you doing?” said Lulu.  “You can’t lie down in the parking lot.  Get up!”

“See?” said Benni from the pavement, running her hands down her chest.  “Nothing.  I can see straight down to my feet.  Nothing gets in the way at all.  Flat as a board.”

“Benni, get up!  People are gonna think something’s wrong with you” said Lulu.


“Well,” said Benni, getting to her feet and smoothing her hair and clothing, “I think it might help me in the social department, if you know what I mean.”

“I hadn’t noticed you were having problems there” said Lulu.

“I’m meeting lots of guys, but nothing goes beyond a date or two, so I thought if I got myself a nice set of tatas for them to play with they might stick around a little longer” said Benni.

“And you want to ask your dad to pay for them?” said Lulu.  “He goes to shul every morning and keeps Shabbos.  I can’t believe you’re even considering this.”

“My parents want grandchildren, so in a way this is an opportunity for them to help move things along” said Benni.  “Besides, Lily’s sister asked her parents for a boob job when she graduated from high school, so she could have them for college while she was young enough to enjoy them.  I’m already twenty-five, my chance is almost over.”

“Lily’s parents said no, but that’s besides the point” said Lulu.  “And regardless of who pays, the recovery can be really hard.  Are you planning to move back in with your parents until you can go back to work?”

“I thought you’d take care of me” said Benni.

“I don’t think so” said Lulu.

“But you’re my roommate, we’re supposed to be like sisters,” said Benni.  “You said said you wouldn’t help me if my diaphragm got stuck and now you won’t help me get boobies so I can get married and have kids.  There’s something very wrong with you Lulu,”

Lulu sighed and turned towards home.  It was gonna be a long night.

##

copyright (c) 2011 Lulubelle B

Little Apple

a Lulu & Friends story

500 words based on a sentence selected by Dive.

This week’s sentence is from L. Frank Baum’s The Wonderful Wizard of Oz:  "Not a tree nor a house broke the broad sweep of flat country that reached to the edge of the sky in all directions."

______________________________________________

Sixteen-year-old Lulu stared out the bus window at the endless sea of agricultural sameness, wave after wave of uniform vegetation bobbing in unison in the early July breeze.  Not a tree nor a house broke the broad sweep of flat country that reached to the edge of the sky in all directions.  She’d passed the morning dozing with her head against the window, sweatshirt unzipped and spread over her like a blanket to ward off the air conditioner’s chill.  She’d wakened a few times, saw wheat or corn or prairie grass, then closed her eyes and dropped back into the light sleep that helped fill the time between stops on the six-week cross-country teen tour.  Kansas was boring.  Better to sleep through it and then stay up partying all night at the next campground.


Lulu needed to get away from home this summer.  Puberty had not been kind to Lulu or her family.  She fought with her mother and ignored her father except when she wanted him to buy something for her.  She had no use for her younger brother.  Most family conversations ended with Lulu screaming, stomping upstairs and slamming her bedroom door so hard that it bounced.  The final decision was made after her mother said that if she and Lulu didn’t get a break from each other by the end of the summer one of them would be dead and the other in jail.


So now Lulu found herself on one of two Blue Bird buses with eighty-five other teenagers and their college-age counselors, traveling round-trip across the US, camping each night and taking in the local sights and the national parks.  They spent last night in the other Manhattan, Manhattan Kansas, listening to school bands, small town politicians and local talent show winners salute the United States’ 200th birthday.  To the spoiled adolescents from New York, Boston and Philly it was amateur hour and they mocked the proceedings.  Even the big fireworks finale left them underwhelmed.


They sorted themselves onto their buses and headed back to camp, where the counselors built a fire and laid out snacks from the supply truck.  Some of the guys slipped away to the other campsites looking for weed or beer.  Lulu and the girls from her bus sat around the fire and gossiped about the couples that had already formed and whispered about the unclaimed boys, who were in short supply.  Nothing much would happen until the guys got back from their forage mission, then someone would break out a guitar or radio and the party would begin.  The counselors turned a blind eye as long as the volume stayed low and the neighboring campers didn’t complain.


This morning they’d all gotten up at 5 to watch the sunrise, have breakfast and break camp.  They’d see the Rockies poking up over the horizon in a few days, but in the meantime Lulu watched the corn and the wheat roll by and wondered when they were going to stop for lunch.

##

copyright (c) 2010 Lulubelle B

Cooking with Benni

a Lulu & Friends story

500 words based on sentence selected by Dive.  Click here for more info.

This week's sentence is from E.M. Forster's A Room With A View:  It tasted partly of the paper in which it was wrapped, partly of hair oil, partly of the great unknown.
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The stench smacked Lulu in the face before she stepped fully into the apartment.  Her roommate sat at the dining table in the alcove off the living room holding a spatula in one hand, hair disheveled, makeup smeared, a plateful of something that looked like crumpled up paper in front of her.

“What’s that smell?” Lulu asked, clamping a hand over her nose and mouth.


Benni waved the spatula towards the kitchen. “I cooked,” she said.


“Cooked what?”


“My parents are coming for brunch this Sunday,” said Benni, “and they’ve been raving about this English pub that opened in their neighborhood, so I thought I’d make fish and chips.  I’m practicing.”


Benni’s kitchen disasters were legendary.  Lulu’s work friends loved to hear Benni stories.  There was the grease fire from reheating fried chicken in the oven on a piece of tin foil without turning up an edge.  Benni tried to extinguish the flames with a glass of water and was lucky to escape with eyebrows and bangs intact.  There was the Thanksgiving green bean casserole extravaganza, when she spent an hour individually hand washing and drying five pounds of beans for a side dish to serve eight people.


And now there was this, whatever this was.  It reeked of more than fried fish.  It was more like putrid scorched flowers with onions, grease and god-knows-what.


“What recipe were you using?” Lulu asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.


“I just winged it.  Fish and potatoes, right?  The bodega on the corner didn’t have any fish but they had fish sticks and they’re practically the same thing,” said Benni.  “And my feet hurt from my new shoes and standing on the bus all the way home and I couldn’t walk to the fruit and veggie guy so I picked up some tater tots, but they only had the onion flavor, but I thought that’s more interesting than plain French fries.


“When I got home we were out of canola oil, but I found this old bottle of oil from my grandpa’s apartment.  It’s imported I think.  Macassar oil.  It smelled like it had exotic spices in it.  But I’m not good at frying and the first batch just kind of sizzled and never got crispy, so I turned up the heat and the next batch spattered and burned.  And we didn’t have any newspaper to wrap it in like they do and I wanted it to be authentic so I ripped some pages out of Cosmo, but I think maybe they were too close to the perfume samples, and some of the ink ran but maybe it’s ok.


“Anyway since you cook all the time, can you taste it and tell me what you think?”  Benni pushed the plate toward Lulu.


Lulu knew it tasted partly of the paper in which it was wrapped, partly of hair oil, partly of the great unknown.  No way was she going anywhere near this mess.  Her office pals were gonna love this story tomorrow.

##

copyright (c) 2010 Lulubelle B

I-635 (LBJ Freeway)

a Lulu & Friends story

500 words based on a sentence selected by Dive.  Click here for more info.

This week's sentence is from John Steinbeck's Cannery Row:  "It was not so interesting driving at night."

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It was not so interesting driving at night, what with Lola snoring in the front seat and Lucky snoring in the back. Then again, Lulu told herself, the drive home from DFW airport wasn't much more interesting in daylight. At least during the day you could admire the bluebells at the roadside and the wildflowers in the median, gifts to the state from Lady Bird Johnson, or so Lulu'd been told when she first moved to Texas.


Lo'd been out of town for a few days and was getting in just after midnight. “Sure,” Lulu’d said when Lola called to tell her Travis couldn’t make it, it being poker night and all. “I can pick you up.”


Lucky was up for a drive, as pups usually are, so Lulu made the run from North Dallas to Irving with classic rock blasting on the radio and the dog's chin on her shoulder as he balanced in his co-pilot position, front paws on the center console and rear paws on the very front edge of the rear seat. Every few minutes he'd sniff Lulu's ear or jam his moist Westie nose into the soft spot under her jaw. Lu would giggle and gently push him back into the rear seat, telling him to sit, but a few seconds later he'd be back, head on Lu's shoulder, riding contentedly westward as the air conditioner blew in his face and Lulu absently reached up to scratch his neck.


Lola waited in the passenger pick-up zone, left hand resting on her leopard-patterned wheelie bag, right hand holding her usual Ozarka bottle, complete with bendy straw. She heaved the bag into Lulu’s trunk, then slid into the passenger seat, twisting to greet the dog as he strained between the front seats.


“Hola Señor Lucho. Did you miss your Auntie Lo-Lo?” she murmured as she rubbed the tickle spot on his chest. “Sorry I couldn’t bring you anything, but your mean ol’ mama says no food for you in the car.”


“Not after the pepperoni incident. How was your flight?” Lulu asked.


“Long and uneventful,” Lola answered through a yawn. “I think I’ll just rest my eyes for a while. Can you make sure I’m up when we get to the Galleria? I want to wave to Nordstrom as we go by.”


“I’m pretty sure they’re still in business, even with your being gone all this time.” Lulu smirked, knowing Lola’s near-addiction to their shoe department.


“Even so…” Lola trailed off, her head tipping back against the headrest.


Lucky’s paws twitched in his sleep, the tip of his tail wagging almost imperceptibly. Lulu reached across and gently took Lola’s water bottle from her relaxed hands and stowed it in a cup holder. Lulu figured she’d be able to drop Lola at her apartment in about twenty-five minutes and be back at her own place ten minutes later.


Lulu glanced over at Lola and checked on Lucky in the rearview mirror, happy to watch over her two best friends.

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copyright (c) 2010 Lulubelle B

The Morning After

a Lulu & Friends story

500 words, just because… and BEFORE Dive declared “writer’s choice”.

[ok, ok...the original post was hard to follow.  since some of you won't even try to hear the voices in my head, i've reformatted this entry in a slightly more orthodox (hee hee) dialogue layout.]

Interior. A small living room. Dawn.

LULU sleeps on a sofa bed. A heavy door SLAMS. BENNI enters, tying a short kimono-type robe.

BENNI
Lulu? Are you awake? I need the dustbuster.

LULU

Yeah Benni, I’m awake. Who the hell was that? Why do you need the dustbuster?

BENNI

Emilio. From the thing last night. He just left.

LULU

The Jewish singles mixer? Emilio?

BENNI

Says he’s Sephardic. Don’t you think he looks Jewish? His wiener does.

LULU

Stop! No details! You brought him home Benni? You just met him.

BENNI

Harold and I broke up, so I figured it’s time for somebody new.

LULU

You broke up last weekend.

BENNI

Isn’t that why we went Lulu? To meet guys? Don’t you want somebody to kiss on New Years?

LULU

I went because you’re my roommate and you begged me. It was the only place open on Christmas Eve besides First Wok.

BENNI

Wasn’t it great? All the music and the people and the atmosphere.

LULU

We were at the freakin’ Copacabana Benni. The 'atmosphere' was all cigarette smoke.

BENNI

It was so classy.

LULU

It was disco hell. And did they have to play that stupid Barry Manilow song every fifteen minutes? Did they think we forgot where we were? I swear Benni, I hate those singles things.

BENNI

Did you meet anybody? Didn’t you love it when they played all those new Madonna remixes?

LULU

Yeah, yammy-boppers everywhere. Not exactly my type.

BENNI

If they were religious, they wouldn’t’ve been there Lulu.

LULU

And those obnoxious Israeli guys. You know one of them tapped me on the shoulder, I turned around, he looked me up and down, said “Nah” and shoved me away. Very classy... So Emilio’s the guy you were making out with over by the bar?

BENNI

No, I met Emilio later. After you left, I think.

LULU

Who was the first guy?

BENNI

I don’t know, some lousy kisser. You gotta take a test drive before you commit.

LULU

Commit to what? You met Emilio at last call and brought him home. Are you trying to get us both killed? I don’t even have a door to shut, sleeping out here in the living room. He had to walk past me twice!!

BENNI

Well, it is my apartment Lulu. I get the bedroom, I pay more rent.

LULU

Yeah, and the front door’s at the foot of my bed!

BENNI

That’s how it is in the city. You knew the deal when you moved in. You’re just jealous because you’re alone and I’m younger. Where’s the dustbuster?

LULU

It’s over near the closet, where it always is. And you’re only two years younger than me. What’s the big deal with the dustbuster Benni?

BENNI

Emilio’s got this weird skin condition. It flakes off when you touch it. I didn’t know until I started rubbing his back. It was too late then.

LULU

Too late?

BENNI

We were in the middle…

LULU

So his skin was coming off and you did it anyway? Benni, that’s gross! He didn’t tell you beforehand?

BENNI

It didn’t come up, but something else sure did. Anyway, there’s all these dried skin flakes in my room. I need the dustbuster… Oh, and you might want to rinse out the tub before you take a shower.

[end]

copyright (c) 2009 Lulubelle B

Lucky

a Lulu & Friends story

500 words based on a sentence (in italics) selected by Dive. Click here for more info.


Lulu stepped in it barefoot on her way to the bathroom.


The dog sidled up to her and nosed the side of her leg as she sat on the edge of the tub washing her foot under the rushing water. “What’s a matter puppy face? Your tummy bothering you? We’ll go out in a minute.”


Lulu pulled on a t-shirt and jeans and grabbed a red leash. Outside the dog made his way to a tree, did what he needed to and pulled Lulu back towards the house. From that angle Lulu saw that he needed the back half of a bath.


Inside again Lulu parked the pooch in the tub, treated the stain with the carpet spray from under the sink and reached for the phone.


“Hi Lo. It’s me. Pupster’s gotta go to the vet. Can you pick us up? My car’s still in the shop.”


Lola got to Lulu’s just as Lulu shut off the blow drier.


“Wow – his hair’s really starting to grow in Lu. Why’d he have that other haircut?”


“I think the kids at the shelter thought he was a white schnauzer. Guess the pointy ears and carrot tail didn’t register. You’re looking more like a Westie every week, aren’t you poopy pants?”


“Uh, Lu? I think you got another problem over here behind the loveseat.”


“Crap!”

“Exactly. You need to shove his nose in it and yell he’s a bad dog.”


“No. He’s gonna learn that I don’t yell when he’s sick. He’s gotta learn to trust me and that he’s safe here.”


“Maybe when we’re done at the vet, Lu, we’ll go to McDonald’s and get him a sausage biscuit?”


“He’s already got diarrhea Lo. He really doesn’t need a sausage biscuit.”


“Well, maybe I’ll get one for me.”


At the vet’s office Lola picked up a magazine from a table and plopped down on a chair. Lulu and the dog fidgeted impatiently at the check-in desk. The receptionist wore white scrubs with a faded multi-colored paw print pattern.


“Have an appointment?”


“Yeah. I called a little while ago.”


“What’s the pet’s name?”

“Lucho Abril Marroquin.”


The receptionist looked up from her screen, eyebrows raised.


Lulu sighed. “Lucky. Everyone calls him Lucky.”


“You can take him into room two. Doctor Jeff will be right in.”


In the exam room, Doctor Jeff scratched behind the dog’s ears and made kissy-kissy noises.

“He’s got diarrhea? It’s probably just the bug that’s going around. We’ll do a quick exam just to make sure, then there’s a pill that will get him back to normal in no time. Eyes good. Ears look fine. Gotta take your temperature buddy. Our ear thermometer’s broken, so we’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way. Now where’s that tube of lubricant?”


But with the passage of the years Lucho Abril Marroquin was to tell himself that of all the instructive experiences of that morning the most unforgettable had not been either the first or the second accident but what happened afterwards.

##

copyright (c) 2009 Lulubelle B

Lulu and Lola

a Lulu & Friends story

500 words based on a sentence (in italics) selected by Dive. Click here for more info.

Twin beds sullenly welcomed us at the motel just off the interstate, flat, spent pillows barely raising a bump under the stained quilted bedspreads. The sun had long ago sunk below the horizon, yet the Texas heat was as choking as ever, the relentless, disheartening, will-crushing heat of an August drought. The beige Saturn’s fickle electrical system continued its slow, lingering death that afternoon, taking with it the air conditioner and the controls for the power windows, which were now stuck at useless heights, neither containing the tepid air burping from the vents on the dash, nor letting any outside air circulate.

Traffic had slammed to a halt about 30 minutes north of Houston when a cattle carrier overturned, spilling disoriented livestock onto I-45. Local police stopped traffic in both directions while Texas Rangers on horseback worked with local volunteers to round up the frightened cows. The 250 miles between us and home in North Dallas stretched temptingly northward, but with no way to get there, Lo and I sat in the car most of the day with the sun pounding down on the roof, from the limitless, empty Texas sky. The motel room was little better as I slid between the graying, frayed sheets, trying to find a cool spot on my pillow and wondering why the room had no ceiling fan.

“Lu? Can I have a water?”

Three bottles lay on their sides, half submerged in the cloudy, lukewarm mystery liquid at the bottom of the cooler, floating among the remains of popsicles, candy bars and lipsticks.

“Sure Lo, but we’ll have to get some more tomorrow, and ice this thing up again before we leave. I’ve never seen anyone drink so much water.”

“Gotta stay hydrated. Oprah says how many liters a day? Got any straws?”

“Just drink it from the bottle”

“But…”

“Like you’re worried about make-up now? We’re going to sleep, just drink it from the damned bottle.”

“I’m sorry Lu”.

“S’ok Lo”

“You know what today’s like, Lu? Thelma and Louise. This is our big road trip. We’re just like them.”

“Lo, you know how that movie ended, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but maybe I can still have a thing with Brad Pitt? Might be worth it.”

“Go to sleep Lo”

“Night, Lu…Lu, can we find a waffle house for breakfast tomorrow? And when we get the water, we need straws too. Oprah always says to use a straw. Her guests always have straws, too.”

“Go to sleep Lo.”

And again next day a thinly populated sky, losing its blue to the heat, would melt overhead, and Lo would clamour for a drink, and her cheeks would hollow vigorously over the straw, and the car inside would be a furnace when we got in again, and the road shimmered ahead, with a remote car changing its shape mirage-like in the surface glare, and seeming to hang for a moment, old-fashionedly square and high, in the hot haze.

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copyright (c) 2009 Lulubelle B