The Blue Watermelon
Posted: Monday, December 01, 2008
by Michael Ramzy
delusionthread.com
"Thanks for letting me borrow your car," Alpha said, entering the kitchen with the watermelon under his arm. He noticed Bob and Janet, a woman with an insane fear of knives, sitting quietly drinking coffee. "I really appreciate it."
"You're welcome," Bob said, looking at Alpha. "Any problems?"
"You let me borrow your eighty thousand-dollar Mercedes, Bob," Alpha said. "What kind of problems could I possibly have?"
"Well," Alpha said, shrugging. "Kind of."
"Kind of?" Bob asked. He looked at Alpha and frowned. "What do you mean, kind of?"
"Well, it's a long story." At this point in time Bob realizes Alpha is carrying something under his arm.
"Where'd you get the watermelon?"
"Oh, this?" Alpha asked, shrugging. "It's a long story," he repeated.
"Why is it blue?" Bob asked. He had never seen a blue watermelon before.
"It really is a long story, Bob," Alpha repeated. He placed the watermelon on the counter and picked a large knife out of the drawer to slice it with.
"GET THAT THING AWAY FROM ME!" Janet screamed.
"The watermelon?" Alpha asked, frowning. He looked at Bob. "What's wrong with watermelon?"
"The sharp object you have in your hands," Bob corrected, careful not to use the word knife'.
"You mean this knife?" Alpha asked, holding the knife up. He held it by the handle, so of course the blade and tip were pointed toward Janet.
"AARGH!" She screamed, standing up. "GET THAT THING AWAY FROM ME!" She turned on her heel and promptly fell flat on her face. Alpha looked on as Bob jumped up and gathered his wife in his arms.
"Sorry," Alpha said, watching and somewhat amazed. He had never seen anything like this before, a woman falling flat on her face after turning on her heel. It always seems to happen in novels and stories, and yet here it is happening for real. Alpha felt somewhat privileged. "Wow, how about that?"
Bob looked up at Alpha and said this: "Stay right there. I'll be right back." He then picked up his wife and carried her to another room. Alpha, in the meantime, took the knife and started cutting up the blue watermelon. Bob returned to see Alpha sitting at the kitchen table eating watermelon. Although the outside of the watermelon really was blue, the inside was a nice, deep red.
"So," Alpha said, taking a bite. "Your wife doesn't like knives?"
From the other room could be heard this:
"AARGH!"
"Please!" Bob said, sitting down. "Don't say that word, Alpha."
"What word?"
"You know, what you used to cut that watermelon with."
"Oh, you mean the knife?"
"AARGH!" This came from the other room.
"Wow," Alpha said, his head tilted to the side listening to the echoes die away. "That's pretty odd."
"That's odd?" Bob asked, thinking of Alpha's hobby of cataloging cars and the fact that in front of him was an orange-haired man wearing sandals with white socks eating a blue watermelon. "THAT'S odd?"
"Sure is," Alpha said, taking another bite of his watermelon.
"So," Bob continued, watching Alpha munch away on the watermelon. "What kind of problems did you have?"
"It's okay," Alpha said. "The tire shop said not to worry." Alpha as usual did not answer a direct question.
"The tire shop?"
"Yes, you know. It's a place that sells tires and rims and stuff like that."
"I KNOW what a tire shop is, dammit," Bob said crossly. "I'm wondering why you were there."
"I didn't want to be there."
Bob just sat there, waiting for the explanation. "And?" he asked after a moment, urging Alpha to continue.
"And, well . . . well, that car of yours lost a tire."
"Lost?"
"I know. That's a weird thing about those Germans. They can make world war and kill millions of people but they can't tighten a lug nut." Alpha laughed. "Go figure."
"Lost?" Bob asked again.
"It fell off," Alpha amended. He shrugged, which seemed to infuriate Bob.
"HOW CAN A TIRE FALL OFF OF AN EIGHTY THOUSAND-DOLLAR CAR?"
"Right front."
"WHAT?"
"It was the right front tire," Alpha said. "The one that fell off."
"The right front tire?" Bob repeated, incredulous. "You're joking."
"At this point in time, no," Alpha said.
"Jesus," Bob said, shaking his head. "Well, at least you got the tire and everything's okay now, right?"
"Sure it is," Alpha said. Something about the way he said it made Bob wince.
"Everything IS okay now, right?" Bob asked again.
Alpha looked up at Bob. "Of course. I even washed the car."
"Well, that's nice," Bob said, somewhat relieved. "You didn't have to do that."
"I really didn't want to, to be honest. The guy at the fire said I should, though."
"The guy at the fire?"
"Yeah. The fireman."
"Fireman?"
"Yeah, you know. Heavy clothing, works with water. Big red trucks."
"I KNOW WHAT A FIREMAN IS, DAMMIT!"
"Sure you do. Everyone does."
"What I want to know is, what were you doing talking with a fireman?"
"He was at the fire," Alpha answered slowly. At this point in time he thought that was a pretty stupid question.
"WHAT FIRE?" Bob screamed. He slammed his hand down on the tabletop, which caused the knife to drop on the floor. The knife just missed Alpha's exposed toes.
Alpha picked up the knife, rinsed it off, then returned to the table. "This knife just missed my toes," he said.
"AARGH!" was heard from the other room.
"WHAT FIRE?" Bob screamed again.
"The fire at the paint factory," Alpha said, as if it was obvious.
"What were you doing at the paint factory?"
"It's a . . ."
"LONG STORY!" Bob interrupted, screaming at the top of his voice. "I'M SURE IT'S TRULY FACINATING AS WELL, ALPHA. JUST TELL ME ALREADY, DAMMIT!"
"Why are you getting mad?" Alpha asked, strangely not bothered by a screaming man in front of him. He would make a good customer service rep with his patience, he surely would. "Everything will be okay, you know."
"TELL ME!"
"Maybe it's your biorhythms," Alpha said, reaching into his pocket. He picked out a small packet of pills. "Here, take these." He placed the package on the table. "I got these vitamins at the gas station, believe it or not."
"TELL ME!" Bob repeated. He was starting to sweat suddenly and a vein was throbbing on his forehead.
"Okay, this is what happened," Alpha said, cutting up some more watermelon. He dropped the knife again and bent down to pick it up.
"LEAVE IT!" Bob screamed. "JUST LEAVE THE KNIFE THERE AND TELL ME!"
"AARGH," came the expected response from Janet in the other room.
"AND YOU SHUT IT," Bob continued over his shoulder. "YOU CRAZY WOMAN, IT'S ONLY A KNIFE!"
"Aargh," Janet whimpered. "Oh aargh."
"Should I take her those?" Alpha asked, nodding to the vitamins.
"Please," Bob said, putting his hands up in a kind of surrender. "Please just tell me what happened to my car, okay Alpha? Just tell me."
"Okay. I borrowed your car this morning to go get some plants for my apartment. Remember?"
"Yes."
"On the way to the plant store, as I was going down that big hill, the right front tire fell off of your car."
"Jesus," Bob said, shuddering. "Okay, I'm with you."
"Well, I didn't know what to do, of course."
"Of course."
"At the time the tire fell off the car, a truck was passing me."
"Oh no."
"Oh yes."
"It was a fruit truck, right? That's where you got the watermelon!"
"No."
"No?"
"No," Alpha said. "It was a garbage truck."
"Oh no."
"Yes. A big one."
"Oh no."
"Well, I didn't know what to do. I mean, the car started swerving all over the place and I lost control and rammed into the side of the garbage truck."
"Oh no."
"And the top of the garbage truck popped off and dumped all of its garbage on top of the cars parked on the side of the street.."
"Oh no."
"And, of course, on top of your car."
"OH NO."
"And so there I am, swerving and now blinded by garbage." He paused for a bite of watermelon. "I was in a predicament, you know?"
Bob said nothing, just squinted his eyes.
"So. I'm swerving down this hill and there's garbage everywhere and I pass that fish store, you know, the one with that giant aquarium in the window? The one with the tiger shark?"
"Yes," Bob said slowly.
"Well, the car nicks that window with that giant aquarium and so all of this water rushes out and now I'm not just swerving down this hill I'm skidding too because of all of the water."
"Oh my God."
"The garbage truck, in the meantime, has stopped skidding."
"Well, that's good."
"Not really. It's now firmly hooked onto the rear bumper of your car."
"Oh my God."
"And the weight of the garbage truck is pushing me even faster down the hill of rushing water."
"Oh my God."
"That's exactly what I said," Alpha said, smiling. He stopped smiling when he noticed Bob's expression.
"And . . ." Bob urged.
"Well, there's more."
"Of course there is," Bob said sarcastically.
"So. We skid down the hill and we actually make it all the way to the intersection at the bottom of the hill, where the paint factory is."
"I see. Who's we?" Bob asked.
"Well, me and the garbage truck."
"Of course," Bob replies, nodding.
"And that shark."
"What?"
"Well, the tiger shark is also hooked to the back bumper of your car."
"Oh no."
"I know, it was weird. I didn't know sharks chased cars."
Bob squinted his eyes again.
"Of course, as we get to the intersection the light is red."
"Oh no."
"And of course, we can't stop."
"Oh NO."
"Well, I shouldn't say we because it was me who was doing the steering. The garbage truck and the shark were just along for the ride."
"Of course."
"And I wasn't even steering, just skidding and swerving and sliding."
"What do you mean, you weren't steering?"
"Have you ever tried to steer a car that's lost a tire?"
Bob replied with yet another squint.
"So we get to the intersection and amazingly there's no traffic."
"Thank God."
"So we go across the intersection and there's this guy with a little cart selling oranges and peaches and stuff."
"Oh no."
"And watermelons."
"OH NO."
"So we swerve and just miss the man with the cart."
"Thank God."
"But we run right into the cart."
"OH NO."
"And our momentum takes us all - the cart, the shark, the garbage truck and, of course, your car into the lobby of the paint factory."
"OH MY GOD!"
"We cruise through the lobby and end up in the paint mixing room, where they have these big urns of paint and these big boilers."
"OH MY GOD!"
"And that's how the fire started," Alpha finished suddenly. He finished the watermelon, rinsed off the knife, then started to leave.
"That's it?" Bob asked, too stunned to yell. "Really?"
"Really. That's all there is to it."
"So that's where you got the watermelon," Bob said. "From the fruit cart."
"Right."
"And it's blue because . . ."
"Because at that point in time the factory was mixing blue paint."
"I see." Bob uttered a small laugh. "So the car's okay? Really okay?"
"Sure," Alpha said, smiling when he saw Bob laugh. "On the way home I washed it and stopped off at a garage and had them bang out the dents and fix the rear bumper. You can't even tell what it's been through."
"Really?" Bob asked, surprised. He stood up and then laughed again. "My God, that's great!"
"Except, of course, for one little thing."
"Oh no," Bob said. He sat back down and steeled himself.
"It's really nothing."
"That's what you said ten minutes ago when I asked where you got the watermelon, Alpha. Do you think you can answer a direct question?"
"Yes," Alpha answered directly. That was easy, he thought.
"No, that wasn't what I wanted to ask you. I haven't asked the question yet."
"Oh."
"Okay, this is my question: You said my car was okay except for one little thing, okay? So . . . what's that little thing?"
"It's blue."
"Right, Alpha," Bob said, sighing. "You said that before and I saw you eat it. The watermelon, right?"
"No."
"But the watermelon was blue."
"Right. That wasn't what I was talking about."
"OH NO," Bob exclaimed. "It's the shark, right? The shark is now blue and I'm going to have the ASPCA and every animal rights group after me."
"No."
"No?"
"No."
"Thank God."
"I mean, the shark IS blue, but that wasn't what I was talking about, either."
"OH MY GOD."
"I know. I've never seen a blue shark either."
"OH MY GOD."
"It's your car," Alpha said quickly. "That's the little thing' I was talking about."
"My car?"
"Yes."
"MY CAR IS BLUE?"
"Yes."
"MY EIGHTY THOUSAND-DOLLAR MERCEDES BENZ IS BLUE?"
"Yes," Alpha said. "It's not that bad," he went on. "Could be worse."
"HOW COULD IT BE WORSE?"
"Well . . . " Alpha started, thinking. "I could have killed someone."
That seemed to subdue Bob immediately. "You're right."
"I could have even been killed myself."
"Yeah," Bob agreed. "You're right about that, too."
"I could have killed some innocent bystander, too. I mean, Michael that writer saw me sliding down the street. He could have been killed."
"He's that crazy guy you count cars with, right?"
"Catalog."
"Whatever."
"Well, he could have been killed."
"He saw all of this?"
"He sure did."
"What did he do?"
"He looked kind of stunned, actually. There wasn't much time for him to do anything. I think he said wow'."
"While all of this was happening, he said wow'?"
"Yes."
"What an afflicted . . . " Bob started, letting his voice trail off. Apparently he disliked writers. There aren't many people with eighty thousand-dollar cars who read humor.
"I also could have killed the shark," Alpha continued. "That really would have been bad."
"The shark?"
"Yes, you know. That tiger shark I told you about from the fish store."
"The shark lived through all of this?"
"Weird, I know. Durable creatures, aren't they?"
Bob shook his head and started to laugh. It wasn't a normal laugh, though, Alpha was sure. He thought it sounded slightly afflicted.
"And that's all?" Bob asked, somewhat warily.
"That's absolutely all," Alpha said.
"Okay," Bob sighed. "See how easy it is to get to the point?"
"Sure," Alpha said, not knowing what Bob was talking about. He always thought he got directly to the point. He started to leave, then remembered the knife he had left out of the counter.
"By the way, what should I do with that?" he asked, nodding toward the knife.
"Do with what?"
"That knife?"
"AARGH!"
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Top-level comments on this article: (2 total)I loved this story. My favorite sort of story starts out with ordinary people who suddenly find themselves in extraordinary circumstances, and this one did exactly that. And it is funny. Great job. tex
Thanks for reading. Sorry it took so long to respond. This particular story is an example of how many people today seem incapable of answering a direct question. Thanks again for your comment.
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