Cannot Wait to Get to Heaven - Fannie Flagg [47]
“Listen,” said Dorothy, waving it off, “I’m still amazed at all you came up with. The sun and the moon, I think he’s a genius, myself.”
Raymond seemed embarrassed. “Now, Dorothy…”
“Well, you are. Isn’t he, Elner?”
“I agree with her, Raymond. The sun and the moon? Just those two alone would make you a genius in my book. Which one of you came up with the idea for people?”
“We both did!” they said in unison, then looked at each other and laughed.
Then Dorothy repeated, “We both did. He did the chemical makeup, cells, DNA, and all that, but it was pretty much a joint effort and it was not easy.”
Raymond agreed, “No, getting every little thing to turn out right, the knees, elbows, not to mention the eyes, the fingers, the opposable thumb.”
At the mention of the word thumb Elner said, “Oh, here’s another question I have…how did you ever come up with so many different fingerprints?”
Raymond said, “Excellent question! Here, let me show you.” He took out a piece of paper and quickly drew a perfect picture of a thumb and held it up. “You see, Elner, by superimposing upon certain recurring patterns variations derived from…”
Dorothy stopped him. “Honey, she’s not going to understand all that biochemistry stuff.”
Elner laughed. “She’s right, it’s too deep for me, but it’s sure something to be proud of yourself for.”
“Oh, all right,” he said, putting his pencil down. “So,” said Raymond, smiling. “Tell me, Elner, what did you enjoy the most about being a human being?”
“Well, let me see, I enjoyed nature, birds, fowl of any kind, really, and I loved insects.”
Raymond’s eyes lit up. “Me too! What was your favorite?”
“Oh, let’s see…potato bugs, grasshoppers, moths, june bugs, ants, snails…Wait a minute, is a snail an insect?”
“No, it’s a mollusk,” said Raymond.
“Well, whatever they are, I always liked them, and dragonflies, lightning bugs, caterpillars, bees.” She looked at Raymond. “No offense, but I’m afraid I don’t care too much for wasps anymore.”
“No,” said Dorothy. “And who can blame you?”
Elner continued, “And I loved a good gospel song, and all the holidays, Christmas, Thanksgiving…Easter especially, I enjoyed being a little girl, being a grown woman with my own home, loved being married, and coffee, bacon, I particularly loved bacon, me and my neighbor Merle even joined the Bacon of the Month Club, of course I didn’t tell Norma.” When she realized what she had said, Elner winced. “Uh-oh, is that considered a lie…me not telling her?”
He thought about it, then said, “I would say it falls into the ‘What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her’ category, wouldn’t you, Dorothy?”
“I agree.”
“Whew! I’m glad about that,” said a relieved Elner. “I have a lot of those where Norma is concerned.” And then she continued. “I loved homemade peach ice cream…black walnut was my second favorite, but you don’t see that so much anymore, and turnip greens, mashed potatoes, black-eyed peas, fried okra, cornbread, and biscuits.” Elner looked over at Dorothy. “And pie and cake of course!”
“That’s a lot of things,” said Raymond appreciatively.
“And liver and onions…most people don’t like liver and onions, but I did. And rice puddings…Oh, I could just go on and on, if you want me to,” she said.
“No, that’s all right, Elner, like we said, this is your time for asking questions.”
“Oh, OK then, here’s something else I always wanted to know: What good is a flea?”
Dorothy put her hand over her mouth and tried not to laugh.
Raymond leaned back in his chair, put his thumbs in his vest, and cleared his throat. “Well, you see, Elner, monkeys—all primates in general—have a rather complicated set of social rituals and grooming behaviors, and the picking of fleas is an important element for bonding.”
Dorothy looked askance at her husband. “Raymond?”
He sighed. “Oh, all right, I don’t know what they’re good for. I’m sure I had something in mind but I just forgot.”
“I told you she was smart, Raymond,” said Dorothy.
“Well, don’t feel bad about those old fleas for one minute,” Elner