The fact that a human bell actually exists, was not the fact behind the umbrella. George’s umbrella, that is. It was the only reason a second visit became due; the fact that George had a newly erected brolly, for those dear tomato specimens. Not because tomatoes were overly needed within the fridge, or a priority vegetable fruit, by any means. No, it was just the new blue and white umbrella that caused the warrant. Hidden agendas wreaking havoc on curious membranes within someone’s human frame, entirely. The entirety of it.
‘What happened to the old umbrella, George?’
‘Did the weather do something?’
‘Big wind, come over, break whole thing’ gesturing arms from that side to the other side, ungracefully, just like wind does not do
‘Was anybody injured from the rogue umbrella?’
‘No, it just went crack- boom’ pointing to an area of oblivion, alongside the stall
‘I build this, this one, this new one, I build it’
‘Where’d you get the new umbrella?’
There was no way in hell George was telling the truth. Barnacle Bills do not sell umbrella’s, not by even the slightest stretch of two imaginations combined does – Bill with all his Barnacles- sell these specifically crafted instruments for shade. If anything, you’d best make a pretend hammock out of a napkin covered in grease; a deep fried, pretend- fish food basket napkin hammock. One that would put nobody to rest- just a point of ease- at the skill set of napkin hammock making non- necessaries. Knowing the difference between real and fake fish is a given, when you work in a real- fish, fish shop. You also find a variety of humans; who eat fish, buy fish, stalk fish and some who look like bells. George though, would not have been at all interested in the lady bell discovery; neck to knee ratio- surface area, sphere volume- dangling calf muscles without any chime. Top knot bun, a delicate fingertip hold, to sound alarm or delight, depending. Nope, George had cold feet, because all that covered them feet were lousy socks.