Note 8: “Don’t Fret Little Man.”

Dabs couldn’t believe it.  He checked his watch.  It had only been an hour since Dabs had signed the contract.  “It’s only been an….”

“Yeah, well this was Henry’s dream not Edna’s.”  Noodle diddled with his cell phone as he threw out Edna’s chili and gathered ingredients.  With one hand, he rinsed the loose chili out of the pot.  Scrapping the burnt crusts off the bottom, Noodle continued his text and answered Dabs’ question on Edna’s exit. “Take one large step back.”

Dabs took a “Hokey-Pokey” hop backwards.

“What do you see?”  Noodle leaned into the deep sink while holding his phone high above his head to protect it from the moisture.

Confusion added a new knot in the muscles holding Dabs’ heavy head.        “I don’t see anything.”

Noodle turned and leaned against the sink, giving Dabs the full half of his attention.  “Of course you don’t.  Edna moved so fast she didn’t leave skid marks.”

“But she didn’t even train me.  I don’t know how to run this café!”

“That’s what you’re worried about?”  Noodle glanced at Egghead.

Egghead pulled her notebook tighter across her chest.  Busy in full pacing mode, Dabs moved his feet as his neck reeled his shoulders to their familiar position in his posture, head jutting forward as a kind of counter balance.  The weight of his tortoise-shell pushed on his chest making each breath an effort.  So he sank to the safety of the floor.

“I don’t even know how to get a hold of her!”

Egghead and Noodle watched Dab melt into a new form of a man.

“You don’t have to worry about that, she didn’t know how to do anything anyway.” Noodle said.

“Well, what about the money?  I don’t know how to keep the records and what not.”

“What money?”  Noodle asked.

“It’s a café; there’s always money in a café.”  Egghead said on the sly.

Noodle came around the counter and placed his free hand on Dabs’ shoulder, “Don’t fret little man.  I know how to run this place.  You can count on me.”

        Dabs’ eyes started at the hand on his shoulder.  They journeyed up the long arm, across the shoulders, down the other arm to the cell phone and the fingers which were still texting. “Oh shit.”   

4 responses to “Note 8: “Don’t Fret Little Man.””

  1. […] Post navigation ← Previous Next → […]


  2. I’m rereading all of this from the beginning, and I’m amazed at myself for not having been able to follow it a year ago. The prose is concise, humorous, and clever,,,I seriously do not know what my problem was.

    This is sort of reminding me of a Coen Brothers comedy, with perhaps a bit of Woody Allen-style comedic meloncholy thrown in for good measure. Dabs’; mystery is one that I’m eager to see explored.


    1. Just when I had decided to disown you, you see the light! (Just kidding.) I have been working on redesigning the blog for a smoother read, as you had suggested. I think it’s better but I’m still learning. Thanks for the compliment and welcome home!


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