Marvin lifted the magnifying lenses above his head, got up from his
fly-tying bench and walked to the front room. He looked out the
window at the woman staring at his sign.
"Do you know her, Marge?"
"Mrs. Richardson. Ardis' mom. She might have a first name but I
don't know what it is."
Mrs. Richardson was admitted and smiled.
"Do love flies work for people my age?" she asked. "Because if
they're just for kids, it won't do me any good, will it? Well, I was
saying to Ardis just this morning, if you think a love fly will help
me find a guy, maybe I should go over and see Marvin Pincus, that's
what I told her, and she said, ‘Mother, that's a good idea. I know
Marvin and Marjorie and they're really nice people.' Now wasn't that
nice of her to say that? Of course it was. Well, Marvin... may I
call you Marvin? Good. Well, Marvin, you see, ever since I lost Mr.
Richardson... he passed about 10 years ago now. You might have known
him, worked down at the water company, and he was one of their best
employees, too. Well, ever since he passed, I've been kind of
lonely, you know? Of course you do. That's how you can help all
these people with the love flies. So will you tie one for me? I was
hoping you would. Where do you want me to sit?"
Marvin pointed to the green easy chair in the consulting room/fly
tying parlor and excused himself for a minute to retrieve something
from the laundry room. Then he came back in and sat at his vise and
began tying a larger-than-usual fly.
[to top of second
"... certainly I have Ardis, but she wants to have her own life,
too, you know. You know those young folks, right? So here I am,
ready to find someone and get your advice on finding the right man
and getting that lucky love fly. I've heard you have done really
well with other people, and this is really exciting for me. You
don't talk much, do you? Well, that's not necessarily bad. Mr.
Richardson didn't talk much, either. Sometimes he'd leave me little
notes when he left for work, but when he was home he was awfully
quiet. Talked with Ardis a lot, though. Never could figure that out.
Men are strange, aren't they?"
Marvin held his hand up for silence, then handed her what looked
like a large bass bug tied on a wooden clothespin.
"That looks like a wooden clothespin..."
"It is," Marvin said, holding up his hand for silence again. "My
sincere advice to you, Mrs. Richardson, is when you meet a good man,
clip this fly to your ear lobe and it'll remind you to just smile
and not say anything."
[Text from file received from Slim Randles]
Brought to you by the new book "Home Country." Read a free
sample at www.slimrandles.com.