The Tale Of Eunice Trubelly Oncegood

I met her in a crowded street

More bumped into than met

Her with Elizabeth the Second hair

Only longer and pinned at the back
With a posh English accent

She smiled and seemed to know me

So we went on a shopping spree

First stopping at the Fortune store

Where she bought a music box

I had no idea what for

Next stop was St. Vincent de Paul

Where she bought a BB gun

Its butt and stock decoupaged
With old timey advertisements

The third stop was a Thrift Shop

Ladies all in a huff about stuff

She sifting until she found the

Right gifty sort of thing: a mannequin

I had to ask: who are you buying for?

She said: the children, of course.

Took me back to her manor

Where she was Governess

"I teach these children, see?"

She pointed to her degree

'Eunice Trubelly Oncegood'

Issued by the Mother Superior

By the Order of The Sisters of God
At the School for Orphaned Girls

"We agreed our birth year would be 1973...

Which means no matter who we are or

Where we are we will all be the same age."

So I waited while she changed

And followed her and her friends

Out into the night still carrying her gifts

Tried to shout: "Why 1973?"
I did the math. "That makes you 40!"

But I was obviously too far away

Falling behind, losing sight,

Then into the crowd she disappeared

I was lost and still had her gifts in hand

Bodies were pressing in, rain was threatening

There was nothing to do but backtrack

Eventually finding the antique shop

Where she had bought that last figurine

It was closed but I knocked anyway

And found the old owner more than genuine

In his offer to take me in as apprentice

So there I worked for ten years

Restoring old things to life

And in my down time working on the toys

Of Eunice Trubelly Oncegood

In the hope that one day she would come back

Enter through those doors and say:

"I have come back for you..."

Except it wouldn't be for me

But these stupid toys:

The derelict music box that will never play,

BB gun with applique that will never shoot

Weirdly human mannequin with French roots

Needless to say, she never did

Those toys sit in this shop shelf still

The music box, the BB gun, the mannequin

Testimony to my lack of intuition

© shaun patrick green 2013