Paul Williamson

Hi!

I live in Cochrane Alberta and I like to write. Of late I’m feeling increasingly alarmed at our response to COVID in Canada

On a lighter note – here’s a short story you might find amusing.

Comments welcome.

JACK AND JILL GET MARRIED

Jill got married. She married Jack. I know, they’ve heard all the jokes so don’t bother.
Jack was a man who knew very little about an enormously large number of things. He would spring general knowledge facts on you when you least expected it “Did you know it’s illegal to hunt camels in Arizona?” Jack questioned his friend, Rory.
Having been treated to Jack’s bizarre collection of facts for many years, Rory resorted to humouring him. “And why is that Jack?”
“Well, it seems that at one time in the 1800s the U.S. Army populated the Arizona desert with camels as a way to settle the frontier.”
“Oh”, said Rory, unable to think of a comeback.
Jack was known for his happy disposition and is what some would describe as blindly optimistic. He was a simple man who took life as it came each day. He was not ambitious but he worked hard and he loved Jill.
Jill worked in a nail salon and believed Jack to be charming and funny. “He makes me laugh so much” she would say. “I always feel better when I’ve spent time with him.”
He did laugh a lot, especially at his own jokes and more to the point, he had a steady job working in sanitation for the city. Jill liked that. She had too many memories of guys who talked a good game, but couldn’t hold a job. If there was one thing that she liked it was a man who had a steady income.
For Jill, Jack was a man who represented perhaps her last chance. At 35 she did not see any more opportunities for marriage and a family on the horizon.
They didn’t have a lot of friends so they decided to invite the neighbours to their celebration. And that is how I came to tell this story. I was one of their neighbours.
They got married at city hall but decided to rent the local Ukrainian Social Club for their reception. Jill chose her cousin Muriel to decorate the hall. It was a decision that Jill would come to regret. One day, Muriel asked Jill the fateful question – “Do you like fish?” There was some misunderstanding on Jill’s part. She thought Muriel was asking after her dietary preferences. Little did she know by answering yes, it would unleash a series of decisions Jill could not begin to imagine.
Muriel was a big fan of everything aquatic. Unbeknownst to Jill, she decided to let loose with an underwater sea creature theme. She commissioned an enormous paper mache sculpture of a fish with an open mouth. The idea was to have Jack and Jill launch themselves through the fish mouth into a room of adoring friends and neighbours. This was all to be performed to the musical theme of Celine Dion singing “My Heart Will Go On” from the Titanic movie. Someone pointed out that perhaps it was not appropriate to feature music from a disaster movie where some 1,500 people died. Unfortunately, criticism fell on deaf ears as Muriel unperturbed, soldiered on.
Someone close to Muriel had the bright idea to feature the sounds of a bubbling fish tank to set the mood.
Arriving at the hall, we were thrust into an unbelievable world of underwater adventure. We were greeted at the door by a costumed mermaid. This was a job awarded to Aunt Bertie. “Come in, come in. So nice to see you. Please, please take a vacant table and help yourself to the assorted fish appetizers on the table close to the kitchen.”
Now if your image of a mermaid is a fresh young, athletic woman with flowing golden hair, you would be somewhat disappointed. Aunt Bertie, having spent her youth in the fifties, had seen, as they say, better days. Her somewhat portly figure was wrapped in lime green, sparkling fabric adorned with thousands of sequins. She had a seashell motif on her head, which flashed intermittently with a series of LED lights. It was all quite impressive.
The sound of bubbles filled our ears as the light from a disco ball reflected in patterns against the walls. Tables across the room were occupied with friends and neighbours looking bored, waiting for something to happen. They would not remain disappointed. Each table was decorated with paper table cloths designed with fish swimming amidst bubbles and coral. A lit candle and a bottle of white and red wine stood in the centre and were complimented with green wine glasses Each place setting had a paper plate, a fish-themed napkin, a plastic knife, fork and a twizzle stick with a pitchfork at one end and some kind of sea serpent on the other. Apparently, Muriel got a great deal on the twizzle sticks from the local dollar store.
Larry was not in the mood to be bored. He was a middle-aged man with a trimmed mustache and hair slicked back with tonic. He owned the local laundromat and spent most of his days, sitting in a folding deck chair outside the front door, reading the newspaper. He had arranged a poker game with several men from the neighbourhood. Having no tokens to play with, Larry had resorted to stealing a plate of salami from one of the food tables. Al had a good hand, but Larry decided to call his bluff. “I’ll see your three slices and raise you two” Larry announced with confidence, throwing slices into the middle of the table from the stack in front of him.
Music from the DJ started up. It was a welcome relief from the sound of bubbles. Frankie Avalon singing Venus brought a wave of couples onto the dance floor. Party dresses of satin and lace swirled around the floor accompanied by a lot of uncomfortable-looking men in suits and jackets. Some men look smart in a suit, others who only wear them to weddings and funerals, do not.
Twin sisters, Tilda and Tiny leaped in joyous abandon, as they danced together. Actually, they were both tiny and they were in their mid-eighties. When they were not on the dance floor, they fluttered like butterflies, moving from one table to the next engaging everyone in the conversation. They were interested in everything and dramatic to the extreme. It was as if life were a play and they exaggerated their reactions to everything for the benefit of anyone looking on.
“Are you a friend of the bride or groom? Tilda asked with a sparkling smile. “Really? No. Really? Oh my goodness, I love your dress! Beautiful, beautiful! Did you make it yourself? Really, isn’t that wonderful! Oh my goodness, how wonderfully delightful!”
To look at them you would never have guessed in a million years that both Tilda and Tiny were huge heavy metal fans. The sounds of Metalica, Iron Maiden and Twisted Sister filled their eyes with delight. Much to the twin’s disappointment, the DJ had none of the music they wanted. He did have Thunderstruck by AC DC which they requested over and over again.
Flora Teeswater sat stoically at a table close to the exit with her dog Nibbles. She had brought out her pearl necklace and earrings for this special occasion along with one of her better wigs. She told me in confidence, it was the Jane Fonda Wig, Purchased from Wig World, where they advertised wigs that took ten years off your appearance. I’m not sure this claim held up. To the casual observer, it looked like a wig planted on the head of someone who was considerably older than the hair itself. I always wondered if people who wore wigs thought that others didn’t notice.
The small chihuahua sat silently but tentatively on Flora’s lap. Nibbles was tall enough to see above the tabletop and kept her beady eyes on what was happening around the room. Flora liked to be close to the exit in case she wanted to leave early.
After what seemed like a very long time, Jack and Jill appeared and as promised, stepped through the fish mouth. Unfortunately, the train on Jill’s dress caught on one of the teeth and the fish crumpled to the ground. Part of the descending paper mache landed on a table, knocking over two bottles of wine and a candle. The candle which had been lit to set the mood in the room, unfortunately, ignited the paper table cloth. It was a fateful compromise – a choice over the linen cloths, in order to save money. It went up in a flash, burning to the screams of those sitting nearby. In their panic to get away, guests knocked over their candles and the ugly scene was repeated several times.
Uncle Jess rose to the occasion. He was a small middle-aged man with four daughters and a wife. She was an equally small, demure woman who constantly wore a look of disappointment on her face.. Uncle Jess has a penchant for organizing everyone around him. He raised his short arms above his rotund body. “Everyone, let’s remain calm. Everyone, please!” In the midst of the panic, no one was listening. As the horde of screaming guests sought to escape, Uncle Jess became an unfortunate casualty, being knocked to the ground and losing his hairpiece in the process.
Luckily, Bruce Murphy, a volunteer firefighter was in attendance. He lept into action and found a fire extinguisher in the kitchen. He sprayed foam across the burning tables, extinguishing the flames. While he managed to stop the fire, the accompanying smoke billowed into the room, filling the hall with a fog-like haze. Screams turned to a chorus of choking guests trying to catch their breath. While Bruce had done an admirable job, unfortunately, it had not prevented the sprinkler system from engaging. Suddenly water began to cascade from the ceiling. In a strange way, it seemed to be a fitting accompaniment to the hall’s aquatic theme. As the sprinklers covered the room with water, a mix of screaming and choking guests rushed to exit the room, gasping to get some fresh air. Flora, having quickly understood what was happening, had escaped early with Nibbles in tow.
Three fire trucks answered the call and one of the firefighters had managed to get the sprinklers turned off and were trying to blow the smoke out of the hall with large fans. It looked like a scene from a horror movie – a sad mix of upturned tables and chairs, charred wood, white foam, broken bottles, red wine stains, food debris, smashed glasses, abandoned shoes, a shattered disco ball and slices of salami. All of this destruction was liberally soaked with water.
A bedraggled band of dripping guests sat on rescued plastic chairs in the parking lot next to the hall. One bright soul, close to the beginning of the entire series of events, had the presence of mind to rescue the wedding cake. It sat on an overturned milk crate, somewhat lopsided. It had escaped relatively unscathed except for one side of it which had been damaged in the run outside.
Larry sat smoking a cigarette, staring at the ground. Tilda and Tiny had lost their hats in the panic but had arranged for an urn of tea to be brought outside. They were serving tea in styrofoam cups to everyone sitting in hushed silence.
It was a sad scene. People sat, still dripping with water, soot-stained faces, some without shoes and others wearing broken eyeglasses. Bruises and cuts were being bandaged by several paramedics who had arrived to treat the wounded. Uncle Jess sat with a frown on his face, sporting various cuts across his bald head and hands.
The DJ who had lost much of his music was being consoled by Bertie whose aqua-coloured costume had been torn in several places and was missing sequins which continued to sprinkle the ground below her feet. Her LED lights had survived the melee and were still flashing in sequence on her head.
Jill wiped away her tears and decided to cut up the cake and serve it with the tea. Jack helped out and was trying to cheer people up with jokes that didn’t seem funny to most guests but did illicit weak smiles from some.
And so was the wedding of Jack and Jill. It’s has been many years since that day. Little did those who attended the wedding, understand how famous the occasion would become. It was one of those events that would end up defining a neighbourhood. The local Ukrainian Social Club had hosted numerous celebrations and memorials over the years, but the wedding of Jack and Jill has never been forgotten.