February 2021 Flash Lit 5 - The Nays Have It

 “…Who’s to go down the chimney?—Nay, I shan’t! You do it!—That I won’t, then!—Bill’s to go down—Here, Bill! the master says you’re to go down the chimney!”

Alice in Wonderland, Chapter 4

 

 

 

When she thought about it, Butterfly realized that she had been silly, thinking that the chimney sweep would look like he came straight out of Mary Poppins or even Busman’s Honeymoon.  Still, the slightly pudgy Filipino guy named Angel in cargo shorts was a bit of a shock.  The rods and brushes looked reassuringly Victorian, sooty, and heavy.  She pulled herself together, “So… what do you need from me besides a credit card?”

 

“I’ll need a plug for the shop vac,” Angel said, spreading tarps over the floor and taping plastic over the fireplace opening.  “Other than that, I’ll just let you know if there’s any problem.”

 

Butterfly never knew quite what to do with herself when there were workers around.  It seemed rude to stare curiously at what he was doing, but it was hard to settle to cooking or cleaning or gardening or reading with an Observer there, even if he was just banging around on the roof with a bunch of tools.  Eventually, she managed to convince herself that weeding was always useful and would keep her handy enough in case Angel needed her.

 

Chickweed was growing like bubbles at the edges of every garden bed.  In theory, it was edible, but Butterfly was not yet at the point where eating weeds seemed sensible as long as she had lettuces.  She threw a few handfuls over the fence for Charlie’s chickens.  The roots came out of the ground with a satisfying ripping sound.  Roly-polies and tiny spiders scattered.  One little lizard, affronted, fled deeper into the shadow of the tomato leaves.  Butterfly found a plastic horse, about an inch long, half buried under a dandelion’s star of leaves.  She rooted her out, neighed at her companionably, and tossed her over the fence, too, since she was sure that Cinny had left her behind accidentally.

 

Naturally, Angel heard her.  “Um,” he said from above.

 

“Oh!” Butterfly said, blushing.  “Yes?”

 

“I’m done on the outside, but I need to use the shop vac inside since your clean-out is rusted and painted shut.”

 

“Sure,” she said.  She wiped her hands on her crinkle-cotton skirt and headed back inside to open the front door for him.

 

Angel peeled back the blue tape.  “Hmm…” he said.

 

“Problem?” Butterfly asked.

 

“Oh, just a nest and a few skeletons,” Angel noted.  “Not unusual.”

 

Fascinated, Butterfly looked at the blackened, but still recognizable bundle of twigs and the remains of two baby birds and one lizard.  Angel scooped them into an orange utility bucket and sucked the remaining creosote and soot into the belly of his shop vac.

 

After he left, Butterfly thought that skeletons in the chimney were preferable to ones in the closet, although she would still vote nay on skeletons in general.