Marquis’ Intimate Diary

SATURDAY, 25 MARCH, 2000, PHILADELPHIA

Here is a very short story written about a holiday with some Midwesterners in Canada last year for you to be reading now.

“HOLIDAY ON STAG ISLAND”
… or “How I Can’t Understand A Bloody Word They’re Saying”
by le Marquis Déjà Dû
      Travis awoke from an afternoon nap in the guest bedroom of Beth’s family’s summer cottage on the river. His dreams mimicked his waking life quite frequently. Last night he had dreamed of sitting on the front lawn with members of Beth’s family, drinking Labatt’s Blue and sailing through the day with idle, soothing conversation.

      Upon awaking, he went downstairs, opened a beer, wandered outside and took a seat amongst the family members. Just like the dream, he thought, and wondered if his dreams could thus be categorized as mundane.

      “Hiya, Travis! Booga booga booga?” asked Beth’s uncle Hugh. Travis nodded and smiled.

      Hugh turned back to his previous conversation with cousin Phyllis. “Booga booga booga booga booga, booga booga-boo?”

      Phyllis responded, “Frill, frill frill frill frill frill frill. Frilly frill frill frill. Frill frill?”

      “Booga booga,” said uncle Hugh. A loud uproar of laughter from the others present made Travis raise his head and smile vaguely at the crowd. Cousin Mike’s dog, Woof, chained to a nearby tree, wagged his tail at the energy exuded from the laughter. Soon the tumult died down to a peaceful silence. Woof crouched on the grass again and licked his paw. Travis picked up the book he was reading — something by Mark Leyner — and idly scanned the page, not really reading at all; rather, just enjoying the sun, the sound of the river lapping at the banks, and the conversation of Beth’s family.

      “Ahilp ahilp ahilp ahilp ahilp ahilp ahilp ahilp ahilp ahilp ahilp,” observed cousin Mike astutely.

      “Fricka fricka fricka fricka,” said aunt Caroline, pointing in that direction.

      “Ahilp ahilp?” asked Mike.

      “No, booga booga,” clarified Hugh.

      “Frill frill NO frill, Woof!” barked Phyllis at Woof who had, in turn, began barking at another dog loudly. Woof turned expectantly towards Phyllis, tongue hanging stupidly from his mouth, tail wagging, a bit of drool falling to the grass from his jowl. Phyllis fixed Woof with a cold stare, the sweat from her glass dotting her blouse.

      “Woof frill frill frill frill frill frill,” said Phyllis to Hugh, shaking her head.

      “Booga,” agreed Hugh. Conversation stopped for a few minutes as each person gazed off towards the river, the cottage or the woods.

      Soon Travis’ beer was empty and he rose to get another, offering to the group, “I’m gonna get another beer. Anyone need anything?”

      Blank, confused, perhaps even slightly embarrassed (on his behalf?) stares were returned. Travis winced, paused and tried again, speaking more slowly, annunciating each syllable carefully, “Booga … booga … frill fricka … booga-hilp?”

      “Ah! Booga booga,” said Hugh.

      “Frill, Travis,” said Phyllis.

      “Fricka,” said Caroline.

      “No, ahilp,” said Mike.

      Travis nodded and went in. He imagined he felt all their eyes boring into his back.

      In the kitchen he encountered Beth spreading mayonnaise on a sandwich she had just made.

      “Hey Beth,” said Travis.

      “Trav. What’s up?” she said, turning and dropping a slice of turkey on the floor. “Aw shit. Hey, where’s Woof? I’m not eating this lovely turkey slice.”

      “Outside with your family,” said Travis rummaging through the fridge.

      “Hey, did you talk to my aunt Caroline about doing her company’s web site? I told her you’re really good.”

      “No, not yet,” said Travis. “I’m just waking up.”

      “C’mon, let’s go,” said Beth leading the way back through the house.

      “Grip grip grip,” said Beth to everyone seated on the lawn. They were having a heated debate about something.

      “Fricka fricka General Motors fricka!” shouted Caroline.

      “Ahilp ahilp Ford!” countered Mike.

      “Beth,” called Phyllis, “frill frill frill?”

      “Grippa grip,” said Beth firmly to Phyllis and that put an end to that little problem.

      Beth and Travis sat and there was another moment of silence as people followed their thought trains and soaked in the scenery.

      “Aunt Caroline,” said Beth, “grippa grip grip Travis grip grip?”

      “No! Fricka, Travis?”

      “Yes, it’s quite true,” Travis smiled.

      “Frick?” asked Caroline, confused.

      “Umm, I mean,” said Travis, “mooby booby mooby booby.”

      “Fricka fricka fricka fricka?” asked Caroline.

      “She’s stiffing you, Travis,” advised Beth quietly, “her company’s loaded. Ask for more.”

      “I’m sorry Caroline,” said Travis standing up to go pet Woof, “but industry standard is … uh, wait … treek treek treeky treek treek treek treek, Caroline, treeky treek treek.”

      “Travis, fricka sit fricka fricka,” smiled Caroline.

      “Doop $65 per doop,” said Travis kindly but unwaveringly.

      Caroline considered the offer and informed him she would propose it to her supervisor.

      Beth went over to Travis and the dog and said quietly to him, “Nice job. I think you’ll get it.”

      “That’s cool,” said Travis more to Woof than Beth. “I hope I won’t disappoint them though.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “I dunno. I just seem to be having this … communication problem lately. Ever feel like you’re just not speaking the same language as other people? Your family all have deplorable accents, by the way.”

      “Yah. Michiganders,” said Beth smiling wryly.

      “Woof!” said Woof.