The dogs of war have just been fed, and presently recline in muted states of sloth in the basement. The holiday meal having been made awkward at best by the presence of the proverbial pachyderm. I turned instinctively toward the menagerie because this was the cue for the elephant act.
“Let’s stop trying to pretend everything is as it should be.” I start off a bit hesitant, but quickly gather steam. “Thanksgiving is a family holiday. Incase any of you have failed to notice, one member of this family is distinctly absent, and I believe we all know why.”
Mother pulls her legs up onto the divan, hugging them tightly to her torso. Father stretches his out, elongating himself in an attempt to appear larger than he really is. I lean forward, elbows on knees, chin in hand- and wait for the elephant to settle in on the hassock.
“Jaynie has chosen a lifestyle which your mother and I find unacceptable. We refuse to reward what we see as blatant bad behaviour.” Father spat out quickly, as if the bitterness of the words he was being prevailed upon to use in his own defense, were souring on his tongue.
“At last count,” I interject firmly, “we are a gathering of eight, counting spouses that is. Mother and yourself making up only one quarter of our number. If we add Jaynie and Alicia to the number of those eligible to vote, we out number the two of you by eight.”
Father lifted his brow, eyes narrowed, lips pursed in what I am want to interpret as defiance. “It seems to me you are overlooking the fact that your Mother and I have God on our side. ‘As for me and my household, we shall serve the Lord.’”
The elephant cried.
This piece is written in 50 word increments. It is my response to the literary quote, “I turned instinctively toward the menagerie because this was the cue for the elephant act.” – Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen offered this week on 50 word Thursdays introduced using one of the prompts offered by Peter Wyn Mosey, The dogs of war have just been fed.