I was scribbling on a sheet of music paper. I was working on an introduction to a number I was arranging, and I kept writing myself into a corner. Erase it, think a bit, put something down, and erase again. There were several pages where I stopped erasing and just drew a thick line through what I’d written. Inspiration never comes when you want it, no matter what you see in the movies.
Why does Robert Russell Bennett make it seem so easy, I thought.
No, Annabelle!
That was Thatch’s voice, and he didn’t sound happy. He sounded loud and rather concerned. I looked up from my paper and finetuned my hearing. The song I was arranging went out of my head as I made an effort to hear what I could. They were in the bathroom.
It’s good for her. That was Annabelle.
No, no, no! That’s not true.
That pricked my interest. God knows what my little diva was up to, but Thatch, who has more common sense than anybody else in the apartment, including me, sounded quite agitated. I’d better check on this, I thought.
I don’t want you to get sick, Annabelle stated. This will work.
I don’t think you’re right, Thatch stated.
I am always right, Annabelle answered.
Right about what? I asked as I walked into the bathroom.
Annabelle’s trying to poison Stella! Thatch shouted. Tell her she can’t!
Annabelle had Stella cornered in the bathtub. She held a bottle cap.
Annabelle, are you trying to poison Stella? I asked
I’m not trying to poison her. I’m trying to keep us from catching this virus. You should drink this too.
Annabelle handed me the bottle cap. It was filled with a clear liquid. I sniffed it.
What is this? Clorox?
No, silly, she said. Clorox is poison. It’s Lysol. It’s medicine!
Annabelle, Lysol is poison. It’s a disinfectant. Did you drink any of this? Tell me. Did you?
No. I was going to treat Stella and Thatch first.
I told her it was poison, Thatch said.
Oh, God, I thought, where did this come from? Donald Trump? Instead, I calmed down. No one was going to die or seriously need a vet. Thank you, Jesus. I asked, Why did you think Lysol would keep you healthy?
It’s what you give me for my colds.
What?
You know. Lysol.
Ah ha! I thought. Instead, I said, You’ve misunderstood, Annabelle. You’re thinking of Lycine!
Isn’t Lysol the same?
No, Missy, it isn’t. Lysol is a disinfectant. It will seriously hurt you. Lysine will support your immune system. I put a little in your food every day.
Well, no wonder I’m so healthy!
You’re all healthy. I try to keep you that way. You really have to stop fretting over this virus. Really, Annabelle, you’re obsessing.
Thank you, Daddy, Thatch said.
Well, I said, let me put this bottle cap back on the Lysol. Now, did any of you drink this? Tell me the truth. If you did, we have to go to the vet. Now.
No, Thatch said, none of us drank Lysol.
Yes! Annabelle said. Who would be stupid enough to drink poison to cure a virus?
Republicans, I thought. Instead, I said, You would be amazed. Come on. This bathroom is too small for all of us, and I have work to do.
I rose from the bathroom floor after setting the Lysol back in my cleaning supplies.
Listen, all of you. This tub holds nothing but cleaning supplies. Stay far away from it. It’s poison and it will hurt you. Promise me.
I promise, Thatch said.
I promise, Annabelle said.
Stella leaped from the tub, jumped on my foot and bit my ankle.
Well, I guess Stella agrees, I said as Stella jumped off my foot, zoomed into the living area, jumped on my bed, and then leaped onto the trunk and then up to the window.
She’s impossible, Annabelle moaned.
She’s a lot of fun, Thatch said.
As I walked out of the bathroom, Annabelle said sternly, Where are your masks? Get your masks!
You don’t need your masks, I called back. Only if we go out.
Yes, we do. Annabelle ran up to me. We only take them off for important things.
Such as?
My Instagram selfies. And Facebook photos.
Oh, yes, I muttered as I sat down to my work, really important.
They are when you’re a star!
She posed. Thatch took a picture.
I went back to work.
©2020, Larry Moore
Annabelle & Thatch 