10030

 

The Lightweight Pushup Bra

 

By Mike Ingles

 

 

 

 

Marvin sheepishly waited until Hazel took her shower. When he heard the water running he went to the computer again. It was ten in the morning.

 

She had locked the parental controls on his screen name so he could no longer visit any of those racy sites. She had warned him - any more chicanery and she would call his mother. "The very idea of a man at forty-five acting like a pubescent. Shocking, just shocking. Where is your mind these days? You used to be such a modest little fella." She cracked an unconvincing smile. "Now run the sweeper like a good boy. I simply must get a shower. I've bought a new toe polish, Emerald Green, I hope you like it"

 

Still he enjoyed taking an occasional peek at Cosmopolitan or Victoria Secrets on-line. The article he was reading from Cosmo went into some grand detail about the strapless, seamless, shoulder-less, silky, pushup bras. Not that any of the girls in the photographs needed pushing-up, quite the contrary. He could only marvel at the wonderful colors and the dainty lace, and whispered to the unknowing screen that if only he could meet a girl like her. Without hesitation, the girl in the middle of the ad began to speak. "Only $29.95 on sale now, buy one for your lover."  He was caught a bit off guard, "But, I have no lover." She smiled and turned a soft shoulder toward him. "A handsome man like you and you're single! I don't believe it." Modest Marvin blushed, "Well I am married but, I…"Marvin Whilly! Just who the hell are you talking to?" Hazel stood at the entrance of the den with her large hands on her even larger hips. Between her left forefinger and thumb she carried the Emerald Green toe polish, she snapped the bottle down on an end-table and some of the polish spilled on her hand. Without realizing it, she moved her hand to her face and smeared the toe polish on her cheek and chin. The emerald green mixed with the coating of makeup she had just applied to her face and left a garish green paste to dry.  She began to walk forward to where Marvin sat at the computer; he quickly minimized the screen. "Just looking at some garden furniture dear, Mother's Day is right around the corner." She peeked at the screen - only a picture of a patio set. She shoved him out of the way and restored the window of Cosmopolitan. With one giant paw she struck the face of the computer screen and cracked it down the middle. "I told you no more and I mean it! Now I thought I told you to run the sweeper. I can't do it all you know. If we're going to the Reeves' cookout I must change. The very least you can do is run the vacuum, cut the grass and clean the car." She stood over him like a mountain. He meekly replied, "which car dear?" The mountain thundered. "Mine! You pathetic beanpole, yours isn't worth cleaning. Now run the sweeper, while I do my hair and nails."

 

The vacuum moaned and creaked along a path that brought him into the living room. Something rattled at the lip of the sweeper; he bent over to pick it up. It was one of Hazel's snap-on earrings. Marvin smiled and wondered what he would look like with an earring in his left ear. He was after all still young, forty-five is the prime of life. He might use a little bobble like an earring to help him stand out, away from the crowd. An earring showed independence, an earring may suite his inward auspicious personality. It was all the fashion for the thirty something generation. The bobble pinched his lobe and he let out a small cry.

 

"Let the cat out Marvin! - and make sure you shut the door this time!"

 

He moved to the front door and opened it slightly and he called, "here kitty, kitty." The woman at the door was about five-foot-seven; she had blond hair and looked like a bra model. "Were you calling for me?" she asked in a sultry voice, reminiscent of Kathleen Turner. His earring sparkled in the sunlight; he became a bit of a cad, "Perhaps I was. May I help you in some little way?" She moved like a cat across the carpet, "Marvie, I'm your Fuller Bush Girl. I couldn't help but hear the soft moans of your masculine vacuum. There is something about a purr that drives a seamless-bra woman wild." He smiled and dropped his cigarette to the floor twisting it slowly, "it's the vibration, I hear it does wonders for purring lovers." He chuckled out loud. 

 

"What are you laughing at! Why are you standing with the front door open and with the vacuum running? Have you lost your mind?" She darted toward him and grabbed the sweeper from his milky hands. She twisted the earring from his lobe. He stuttered, "There was a sp-sp-spot." Marvin's watery eyes moved to the floor. Hazel's voice raised above the whir of the vacuum. "I think you're going insane. If you don't start acting right, I'm going to call the hospital again! Or stick you back in the basement with the other feckless critters around here." With this stern warning she stormed away, placing the earring on her left lobe, her emerald face stealing all the air from the room. "Now cut the damned grass, it's getting late!"

 

Marvin left the vacuum and the blonde to fade away in the sun-speckled living room dust. He moved to the garage and cranked up his trusty John Deere riding mower. The morning sun was warm; he could sense the heat rising from his hot engine into the hazy atmosphere. The yellow glow reached his racy-red, six-speed Ashtom Moxly as he sped around the oval for the last time. His old nemesis, Mr. number 9 himself, John Earheart crowded his inside. "Take that"! Number 9 smiled, as he shifted his Benton Ashley into 4th gear around the dreaded 'Fat Lady Turn'. Marvin had to close the gap if he had any chance of winning; "I'll downshift into third around 'The Fat Lady'.  I know it has never been done, but a man has to do what a man has to do". He downshifted to 3rd, the Ashtom Moxly shook as though an earthquake bore from its pistons, but the Moxly held together. Marvin picked up a tremendous burst of speed that almost carried him into the aluminum fence on the far turn. As he reached for fourth gear he whizzed by old number 9 carrying that self-assured smile his fans had become so accustomed to and had seen on all those cereal boxes. The checkered flag was out as he cruised into the winner circle to drink his quart of milk. A lovely redhead with blue eyes wearing a strapless bra placed the string of roses over his head, she kissed him on the cheek. "You're so exciting Marvie, that's three races you have won this week!"  She fell into his arms and went limp with desire. Marvin bent low to kiss her as the engine exhaled blue flames.

 

"What are you doing now?  The damned yard looks like… like… like crop circles!" Hazel's large hands were boulders of fist. He geared down the Ashtom Moxly. "I just got a little dizzy is all." She shook him by his arm; her howling voice trumped the humming of the engine. "I'm not going through this with you again! I'm telling you, any more craziness and I'll call the hospital and have them throw away the key. "Now finish the grass and wash my car. I'll sit on the patio so I can keep an eye on you." The sweat from her brow ran down both cheeks and left a yellow stain as it pushed some of the Emerald Green from her large face.

 

Marvin's neighbor, Alicia, could not help but overhear Hazel's shouting. Alicia felt pity and more for Marvin. She enjoyed talking with him in the evenings. She would be working in her yard and he would always stop to say how lovely her Petunias and Impatiens were. He was shy but caring. He always had something nice to say about her and after her stormy divorce with a husband who was so very cruel; it was most pleasant for her to see the gentle side of a man. Alicia was petite and pretty. Hazel hated her. If she caught Marvin and Alicia talking in the evenings she would bound from the house and give Marvin some small task to do. She glared at Alicia with disdain and would often make some offhand comment about loose women in the neighborhood.   

 

The grass took about a half-hour to cut. Hazel was dozing in the hammock. He quietly pulled her new 'Town Car' from the garage and went for the garden hose. The hose twisted and turned in his milky hands. "Damned Anacondas they have a fight that is…" No, no, he thought to himself, I can't play. If she catches me again she might call the hospital or, worse, lock me in the basement again. The soapsuds were rich and bubbly. He playfully blew bubbles into the air. They reflected the green from the car and the blue from the garage, so beautiful, so innocent.

 

"No two are exactly alike you know, Marvie". Alicia spoke with a charm of a lady from the country. She had a New England accent, which Marvin cherished, but he put his finger to his lips and motioned her to be quiet. In hushed tones he said, "My wife is asleep, we must not wake her." Alicia nodded in agreement, she whispered, "I saw you washing the car, thought I would lend you a hand." She picked up a lathered sponge and began washing the top of the car. She moved like a ballet dancer around the side and trunk of the car. Her white blouse became wet as her chest touched the side windows. Marvin could not help but stare at her lovely body. Alicia just smiled, waiting for a response, breathing heavily. Marvin tried looking away, but male desire refused his conscious efforts. He extemporized, but stated the obvious, "I believe you are wearing a 'Playtex Soft-Side' it comes in sizes from 34A to 38C, suggested retail price $12.99." Alicia did not speak, but her mouth opened in amazement, she took a few sultry steps toward him.

 

Hazel looked up from her hydra slumber and impelled herself forward with a fire on her tongue that only a dragon could appreciate. "What in the hell are you doing now you

simple son-of-a-bitch! The blue and green bubbles burst and disappeared, as did Alicia. Marvin looked around for the beautiful moment which had been shattered; he stepped out of his dream. He had seen enough and had taken enough. No threat of psychiatric hospitals or being locked in basements would dissuade him. "You! You snarling, vicious, contemptuous hull of a woman. Leave me alone!"

 

His voice was breaking, twenty years of the same howling from the same putrid face had welled within his small chest and he must exhale her poisons.  Hazel stopped shouting, her voice became raw and evil -"I'm calling them now, you will be sorry, you … you twerp of a man." She stormed away into the house, her face full of emerald green toe polish and yellow stains. 

 

All fell quiet for a moment. A gray tunnel of fog surrounded him. He had sensed it before; it was fear multiplied by confusion, it was not about to go away. Marvin realized there was no logical reason to talk with her. When she was in this frenzied state only revenge could be served. He wondered aloud why it was the authorities always took her side in these matters. It is true, he liked to daydream, he enjoyed the pleasure of make-believe worlds, full of excitement and gaiety and women with seamless bras. His imagination was far better than this monotonous reality of nine to five, then to return home to a woman whose only concern was to have him serve her every tedious hour. But he was resigned to his fate; the hospital was not so bad, much better than being locked in the basement again. He would miss his evening talks with Alicia and miss his computer, but nothing else here was of importance.

 

The ambulance pulled into the driveway and two burley men dressed in white stepped from the van. Marvin approached them, there would be no trouble, he was willing to

surrender, he just wanted time to pack a few things. The men smiled and approached him, the larger of the two began, "Sorry about this, are you Mr. Whilly?" The man held a clipboard in his hand. "Yes," said Marvin, "if you'll just give me a second, I'll…" The smaller man interrupted, "No, No sir, you just take it easy, we’ll get her. Is she violent?" 

 

The gray tunnel began to evaporate; there had been some kind of mix-up, but still he thought it might just be possible. Surrounded by thinning clouds Marvin said, "Well, she is a rather large woman, and she has been having hallucinations, I would be very careful if I were you." The larger man spoke, "Don't worry sir, we have done this many times, we know what we are doing. You just follow us into the house, it sometimes helps to have a family member with us." 

 

They walked into the house. Hazel was obstinate, her Emerald Green face looked like a sullen Halloween mask, one earring dangled from her ear: "Take the little twerp away, he's been talking to imaginary women on the computer again, blowing bubbles and driving the lawn mower around in circles all over the place. Take him away, but be careful - I think he may be violent!"

 

The two burly men looked at each other and then at the milky little husband. The larger man smiled. "You can see our computer is broken,” Marvin said. “It hasn't worked in weeks, and our lawn has never looked better, still I don't know what she means when she speaks of bubbles, other than she has mentioned she sometimes just wants to float away."

 

The man grabbed Hazel's arms as the smaller man pulled out the straight- jacket. Hazel complained bitterly and thrashed around like a carp out of water, but it was to no avail.

 

Within moments she was gone. Marvin promised he would come visit soon. Alicia could see it all from her patio. She walked over to try to give some comfort to a grieving man. She threw her arms around him; he could feel the satin smoothness of her lightweight Playtex pushup bra, only $14.99 in stores everywhere.

 

  

© 2003 Mike Ingles


Mike Ingles is a freelance writer living in Ohio. He has a degree in American Literature from Franklin University, Columbus, Ohio.
duckrun2@aol.com


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