PALINDROME

Jenny looks out the window of the car. Looks up, to the right. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What’s what supposed to mean?” Lou, driving, is lost in thought about something or other.

“Look at that billboard.”

Traffic is very slow at the moment, so he looks.

It’s huge. On the left of the billboard is a baby, with that perpetual just-about-to-cry-loud-enough-to-blow-your-ears-off expression on its face, the expression they get when they’re hungry or tired or mad or thinking or confused or want attention.

The baby is holding a knife. There’s a plate on a table in front of him, and on the plate is a sort of an orangey-brownish lump.

On the right hand side of the billboard, in big letters, it says:

MAY A MOODY BABY DOOM A YAM?

“What are they selling, Lou?”

He frowns. “I dunno. It doesn’t make sense, really. Are they selling yams? Knives? I dunno.”

“Maybe they came out with some new baby food that tastes like yams.”

“Why bother? Those kids don’t know what they’re eating. Ever look at the crap in the baby food aisle? Strained peas and rutabagas? See, nobody in their right mind would ever eat that willfully.”

She nods. “Yeah, and you know the thing that bothers me? They shouldn’t show a baby holding a knife.”

He looks over at her. “Why not?”

“Well, you know, kids are so influential at that age.”

“I think you mean impressionable.”

“Whatever. The point is that they shouldn’t see that stuff.”

He gives her a mock-serious look. “So what you’re saying is that if babies start seeing pictures of other babies holding knives, then they’ll want to hold knives, too.”

“Exactly!” she grins. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Maybe you should complain to the company.” The car has moved a grand total of four feet since they first spotted the billboard.

“What company? I don’t see a phone number or a website or even a name of a company. Just the thing about the moody baby.”

“He doesn’t look moody to me,” Lou says. “He looks pissed off.”

“I’d be pissed off, too, if someone gave me a stupid yam to eat, and nothing else.”

Silence for a few moments.

The Jenny says, “It shoulda been a dog.”

“A dog?”

“Yeah, because no one would have a problem with a dog holding a knife.”

Lou looks up at the billboard again. It’s a little closer now, but its underlying message, if there is one, is still unclear. “Jen, dogs don’t use knives.”

“I know they don’t, but they could.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I mean, look, if a dog holds a knife in his mouth, he can’t do much with it. The blade is sideways. So if he’s got a steak in front of him, he can’t use the knife to cut it. It’s at the wrong angle.”

She ponders this. “Well, he could turn his head sideways then. That way, he could cut down.”

“He wouldn’t be able to see what he’s doing.”

“He doesn’t have to see what he’s doing. No one expects him to create a masterpiece. He just has to cut the steak.”

“He has teeth for that.”

“Yeah, but we’re talking about a hypothetical dog with a hypothetical knife.”

He nods again. “And don’t forget the hypothetical steak.”

“Right,” she replies, “none of which has anything to do with the moody baby or the yam.”

“Hey, you were the one who said the dog should be holding the knife.”

“He should be. It endangers fewer children that way.”

“Unless the dog goes on a crazy murderous rampage and slashes hundreds of kids with that knife in his mouth.”

Silence again.

“Lou?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you doom a yam? I mean, ‘doom’ is not a word I would normally associate with the life cycle of a yam, you know?”

“I know. It makes no sense. What does the kid have against yams? What did yams ever do to him?”

“I would really like to know what they’re selling.” She waves a hand in the general direction of the billboard. It’s practically on top of them now, rising high into the sky like a giant rectangular and immobile sentinel, albeit a brightly-colored and enigmatic sentinel.

“Maybe they’re not selling anything. Maybe it’s one of those public service announcements.”

She scratches her nose. “Like what? Like ‘Support our troops’ or ‘Stop smoking’ or ‘Give to the United Way’? I haven’t seen too many public service announcements about moody babies with knives.”

“Maybe it’s new.” He peers up through the windshield; at this angle, he has to scrunch himself down as low as the steering wheel to get a good look at the strange sign. “Looks new, looks like they just put it up.”

Jenny looks up too, although she has the luxury of being able to look out the passenger side window. “Has to be new, I was out here last week and I think this one had a hotel ad on it.”

“Maybe the hotel has a new owner. Moody Baby Inn. There’s an idea.”

She laughs. “Wonder if they have yams on the menu?”

“Jeez, I hope not, I hate those things.”

Traffic has started to pick up, and Lou and Jenny speed up a little, leaving the billboard behind.

“How long till we get to Exit 241?” she asks.

“About 40 minutes, I’m guessing,” he says.

She turns on the car radio. Hall and Oates.

A few minutes later, she points out the window. “What the hell is that?”

Another billboard.

This one says:

SIT ON A POTATO PAN, OTIS.

Lou looks at Jenny and shrugs.

“Maybe we should buy a potato pan.”

That's pretty cool. Didn't catch the first one, then when I read the second one, I realized the backward/forward thing.

interesting

Oh to be in your mind for just a day...very good. What next Lex?

I'm doing a sequel to "Mr. Backenfort." It looks like it's going to be a detective story, which I hadn't exactly anticipated!

Almost finished with Moving Day, I'm sure with a few days off around the holidays I'll be powering through the others. A detective story would provide you with all kinds of interesting objects and people to develop.

Love it. I've had a thing for palindromes for a while now. Check out "The Poisonwood Bible" if you haven't already!

Thank you! I will certainly do so!

I have a thing for palindromes, too....

Put Eliot's toilet up!

I'm planning on including the short story above in my 4th book....

very good

Eva, can I stab bats in a cave?

enjoyed this...