Flora and Ulysses: Chapters 38–49

And then she noticed that there was a picture hanging on the wall opposite the couch. It was a painting of what looked like nothing but darkness. Unremitting darkness.

For some reason, Dr. Meescham’s words conjured up the face of William Spiver, white haired and dark eyed.

What I meant to say is that when I was a girl in Blundermeecen, I sat on this sofa and spoke with my grandmother about inconsequential things well into the gloom of the evening.

“Your father is very capacious of heart,” said Dr. Meescham.

And the superhero was enormously, inordinately pleased with himself.

The sun came out from behind a cloud and then disappeared again, and the smell of ketchup melded with butterscotch rose with a gentle persistence from the seats of the car.

The sun came out from behind a cloud and then disappeared again, and the smell of ketchup melded with butterscotch rose with a gentle persistence from the seats of the car.

The house looked sneaky somehow, almost as if it were up to no good.
Foreboding.
That was the word that popped into Flora's head.
The house seemed full of foreboding.

"Do inanimate objects (couches, chairs, spatulas, etc.) absorb the energy of the criminals, the wrongdoers among whom they live?” The Criminal Element had queried in a recent issue.

"Do inanimate objects (couches, chairs, spatulas, etc.) absorb the energy of the criminals, the wrongdoers among whom they live?” The Criminal Element had queried in a recent issue.

“It is, of course, entirely unscientific to assume such a thing. But still, we are forced to admit that in this woeful world, there exist objects with an almost palpable energy of menace...spatulas that seem cursed, couches that contain literal and metaphorical stains of the past, houses that seem to perpetually groan and moan for the sins contained in their environs..."

“It is, of course, entirely unscientific to assume such a thing. But still, we are forced to admit that in this woeful world, there exist objects with an almost palpable energy of menace...spatulas that seem cursed, couches that contain literal and metaphorical stains of the past, houses that seem to perpetually groan and moan for the sins contained in their environs..."

“It is, of course, entirely unscientific to assume such a thing. But still, we are forced to admit that in this woeful world, there exist objects with an almost palpable energy of menace...spatulas that seem cursed, couches that contain literal and metaphorical stains of the past, houses that seem to perpetually groan and moan for the sins contained in their environs..."

"Do you remember the Darkness of 10,000 Hands?” Flora said to her father.
"Yep,” said her father. “He wields 10,000 hands of anger, greed, and revenge. He is the sworn enemy of Incandesto.”

Flora, superhero on her shoulder, walked quietly, stealthily through the living room and into the dining room and stood before the closed kitchen door.

Flora listened, and she could feel Ulysses, his body tense and expectant, listening, too.

She said, ‘‘Yes, it will go like this: ‘Frederico, I have dreamed of you for eons.’”

“Let me see,” said William Spiver. “I suppose Frederico would say, ‘And I have dreamed of you, Angelique. My darling! I must tell you that they were dreams so vivid and beautiful that I am loath to wake to reality.’”

"I have never claimed to be able to smell everything; however, it is true that right now I am smelling squirrel. And there is another odor. It is something sweet, some scent redolent of school lunchrooms on rainy Thursdays. What is it? Jelly. Yes, grape jelly. I smell squirrel and grape jelly.”

Having denounced her mother, Flora now turned her attention to William Spiver and his betrayal.

“I must admit that I have always had a certain facility with words. And I am terribly fond of the novel form. Though my interests lie less in the area of romance and more in the speculative nature of things. Science fiction, if you will. Fact blended with fantasy, an extended meditation on the nature of the universe. Quarks, dwarf stars, black holes, and the like. Do you know, for instance, that the universe is expanding as we speak?”

“I must admit that I have always had a certain facility with words. And I am terribly fond of the novel form. Though my interests lie less in the area of romance and more in the speculative nature of things. Science fiction, if you will. Fact blended with fantasy, an extended meditation on the nature of the universe. Quarks, dwarf stars, black holes, and the like. Do you know, for instance, that the universe is expanding as we speak?”

The squirrel shook his head vigorously, obviously amazed.

“Speaking of expansion, did you know that there are now something like ninety billion galaxies in the universe? In such a universe, it seems ridiculous and foolhardy to attempt a creation of one’s own, but still, I persevere. I persevere.”

“Speaking of expansion, did you know that there are now something like ninety billion galaxies in the universe? In such a universe, it seems ridiculous and foolhardy to attempt a creation of one’s own, but still, I persevere. I persevere.”

“Mrs. Buckman,” he said, “perhaps you would like to retract those last words? They seem unnecessarily harsh.”

And into this darkness slowly swam the other Dr. Meescham's giant squid, moving sadly along, flailing its eight lonely and enormous arms.

“I think she was surprised. And perhaps her feelings were hurt. She certainly didn’t express herself very well. Shocking, really, that a romance novelist could be so inept at the language of the heart.”

"Having suffered through several traumatic episodes myself, I am very familiar with the bodily manifestations of grief."

“I think the more relevant question would be: Who banished me?”

"There was an unfortunate incident involving my mother's new husband, a man who is not my father. A man who bears the idiotic appellation Tyrone.”

“My name, as you know, is not now, nor has it ever been, nor will it ever be, Billy. I took issue with being so addressed. I repeatedly took issue. And after repeatedly taking issue and repeatedly being ignored, one thing led to another and some irrevocable acts occurred. And thus, I was banished.”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now. But as long as we are asking each other questions of an emotionally fraught nature, why did you say that your mother wanted a lamp for a daughter?”

“It’s complicated,” said Flora.
“I’m certain that it is. And I empathize.”

There was another long silence punctuated by the clacking of typewriter keys.