New First Chapter

It’s pronounced Gogh-nome

Friday, September 22

 “Oswald, I knew you’d understand.”

I screwed the lid on the canning jar, half-filled with Penobscot River sand, and moved to sit with him in Daddy’s Le Corbusier armchair. Typical Daddy, he had gilded the lily with a leopard-print slipcover.   

Oswald moved over on the cushions with all the grace of a weeble which also grunts. Boston Terriers can be very grunty.

I settled into the fuzzy spots to check out my finished product.  I've only been in high school three weeks, but this is just long enough to make a powerful enemy. Overcoming Bangor High’s Next Top Model was going to be a challenge, and I wasn’t sure how much a jar of sand was going to help.

I gave the jar a good shake and turned it sideways and upside down above my head. The sand here was thick, wet, and pebbly, distinctly un-Californian, and the paper was stubborn. I could still clearly read the name KOREY GRANT written in her usual all-caps style, underlined with a flourish. I had gotten her name from the top of her math test earlier that day. At the end of class she had been distracted by a heated text-message battle with Monica, Re: Cheese and its availability at TGIFridays.

“What do you think, boy? Is it going to work?”

Oswald burped a little, which I am sure is an acceptable 'yes' in many languages. I patted his head and scratched his back for a moment.

I got up for a butter knife and pushed the paper down under the sand. According to my Wikipedia jinx research, this jar would be a positive ‘counter-jink,’ to attract and trap Korey’s bad attitude if she directed it at me. I don’t know if I believed that the jar-thing itself. Not really. It was making me feel better, though.

The dogs all followed me out the sliding glass door, to the hole prepared in my corner of the backyard garden.

I have a Van Gogh theme there right now, which seems appropriate for counter-jink-burying. The sunflowers were tall in rows, dripping with seeds. I re-painted three lawn gnomes to represent Irises, The Potato Eaters, and Self Portrait With Cut Ear. I had carefully removed the right ear of Self Portrait. That gnome was smoking a pipe, so he had no choice in his role. His ear was in the dirt nearby him in case he missed it.

“Light without and light within,” I said. I’ve heard Mum wish that on friends and those who annoyed her. It was some old Scotty Logic to bless your enemies. I smoothed the dirt over the jar with my hands, and moved Potato Eater to guard the spot, since he was pretty creepy.