26.5.2009

MILK ANYONE?

 

    MILK ANYONE?

http://www.netsaga.is/media/files/Rammur%20Steinn.mp3
 

    The place turned out to be a simple two up, two down. It had two bedrooms, a small kitchen, toilet and bathroom along with one box room of a lounge. Inside the lounge it had four arm chairs covered over with green covers with large brown flowers on, looked like old curtains from the nineteen seventies transformed for the ready for the new millennium. In one corner stood an old looking television that had clearly seen better days because every so often the picture would roll and the sound would fade in and out. In one of the chairs sat her uncle Martin, he hadn't said a word since they arrived, he was either asleep or was dead but after seeing him twitch Ben knew he was still in the living world. In another corner sat a large bird cage with one parrot watching the quests like a hawk just in case Ben or Shaz decided to swipe a brown stained pair of dentures which sat on a small coffee table which graced the middle of this room. There was a gas fire on even though it was the height of summer and this just added to the hot claustrophobic feeling both of them were already experiencing. Sharon's auntie possessed a little Yorkshire terrier which loved to come into the room and just bark at you all the time. This went on until uncle Martin shouted out in his sleep, "Shut it you tiny little rat!"

    It was at this point when Ben was seriously thinking of making a run for it, auntie came walking in carrying a plate of biscuits along with a pot of tea, a carton of milk and two cups all balanced nicely on one small frilly tray.

    "Cup of tea? I've made a pot, must be thirsty after your long journey. Help yourself to milk and of course biscuits." She placed the tray down and moved the table a little closer to where they sat. Looking at the girl she asked, "Now who did you say you are?"

    Sharon had already spent the last ten minutes telling Joan who she is! Now as her husband played mum by pouring the tea she explained once more, "You are my auntie Joan, my name is Sharon and this is my husband Ben."

    "Oh, why are you here?"

    "To say hello and to catch up on what you and uncle have been getting up to," she explained as she gestured with one hand over to where her uncle lay fast asleep still. It was then she noticed that the dog was crouching over a slipper in one very unusual position, she thought of saying something but said nothing. She chose to speak when spoken too. Sharon also noticed that her husband was now giving her a weird look as he held the carton of milk. "Ben love, auntie said it is alright to use the milk."

    His eyes grew even wider, "Um, no its okay I can do without milk. Need to cut back."

    "Since when? You've always had milk with your tea!" Shaz replied and wondering why he had made up such a cock and bull story.

    "My dear boy I won't charge you for it!" Auntie followed up with.

    "But, no its..."

    Sharon was not standing for one of his mood swings now so got ahead of him, "Stop complaining or protesting or whatever, just take the milk and don't cause a scene!"

    Ben knew she had the wrong end of the stick, he wasn't being awkward, it was....Swallowing hard he proceeded to pour the milk into his cup but what came out was not milk in its liquid form, it had curdled and was all lumpy, very lumpy much like porridge.

    Auntie never noticed, "Milk?" She offered taking the carton and holding it rather precariously over Sharon's cup.

    Sharon watched the carton of doom hang in the balance over her cup. It was now her turn. Swallowing hard she found the strength to say, "Actually Auntie I like my tea black, coffee white but not tea."

    "Okay suit yourself dear. Ben more milk?"

    "No thank you Auntie Joan." Ben replied hastily and felt relief to see her put the smelly thing down.

    "Come on you two, I have plenty more in the pot for you, and I'm not letting it go to waste."

    A new threat came their way and Shaz had a good excuse, "Well I'd love too, but being black its a little too hot for me to drink it just now, give me about five minutes."

    Auntie's attention switched towards her male quest, "Yours has milk in it, now come on drink up!"

    Just then Sharon's Uncle woke up and added weight to his wife's words, "Go on lad drink up to keep her quiet."

    He felt backed into a corner and what finished him off was the parrots remark.

    "Come on boy drink up!"

    Now with the whole world against him he lifted the cup to his lips and after counting to three he opened his mouth to swallow the smelly lumpy contents.

    Sharon cringed at the thought, but to her amazement her husband had drank the lot leaving an empty cup on the tray and had even managed a strained smile!

    "Another cup dear?" Auntie offered.

    Ben wished that the whole floor could open up and swallow him, he couldn't go through another cup of lumpy tea! Then to his amazement he was rescued.

    Uncle Martin shouted, "Hey boy what are you drinking girls stuff for? Come with me and I'll show you my brewers paradise! A collection of the finest home made wines and beers you have ever seen."

    Another thing now amazed Shaz! Her husband managed to say, "Yes please!" Okay there was hardly a sound coming from his voice but at least it was eligible.

    Uncle shouted out, "Great!" stood up and immediately slid his foot into something warm and soft which sat inside his slipper. Crying out he shouted, "That dam dog of yours has crapped in my slipper again."

    Joan smiled at him, "Oh Martin! He's only playing dear."

    Martin now all red face announced, "Playing? I'll be playing with that dogs backside!" Then staring down at the small fir ball he said, "Just you stay clear of my shed otherwise you will find a cork shoved up in a place where the sun doesn't shine! And try pooping in my slipper then!"

    Shaz came to understand why the dog had sat down in a funny way?

    After Martin had cleaned himself up he led Ben to his rather large brewing shed. "I do a lot of my brewing in the spare room. Out here is mostly devoted to storage."

    Ben followed Martin in through the wooden door and found a labyrinth of barrels and rows upon rows of dusty bottles, some were new but the majority were well old.

    "Here, try this one." Martin offered as he found two glasses and uncorked one of the dusty bottles, forth row along and two shelves up. After pouring it he let the young man take a good sip. "This is one of my first efforts brewed way back in the late seventies."

    Ben noticed uncle Martin watching him like a hawk and so decided to take a manly gulp, not a sissy sip like Gordon probably would. He regretted this move, the wine burnt the back of his throat and felt very much like paint stripper as it made its way down through his system. Ben's brain gave him the answer, "Whurr! That?s disgusting!"

    Martin laughed, "I know. I keep this bottle as a firm reminder of the mistakes you can make in the brewing business, especially if you are impatient and fail to read all of the instructions properly." Turning he picked up a red from the year ninety two. "Blood red this one. I think you'll like it."

    As Ben took the glass full of red wine into his hands he got his first real good look at this tall giant of a man, mind you every one seemed taller to him as he was only a short arse in comparison. Martin was at least six feet in height and was in his latter sixties. He had a lot of grey wavy hair and his build was a build of a weight trainer. He had a warm smile which put you instantly at ease with the man. Ben took a sip of the wine and to his surprise it was a fruity one, not too dry, of course everything would be better than the first bottle and the curdled milk.

    "What do you think?"

    "Very nice uncle, very pleasant to the taste buds. A truly beautiful wine." Replied Ben as he did his best to drink this fine wine before noting that Martin had already pulled another bottle, a white from his giant collection.

    "How about a nice dry white from the early eighties?"

    Ben clutched hold of another glass. Again this wine was good! "Yes a wonderful dry crisp white which leaves a pleasant feel in the mouth, not at all like the dry white's you get in the supermarket."

    "Exactly my dear boy! This wine and many others contain a secret ingredient which aids the feeling you have just said."

    Ben noted the sparkle of excitement in his eyes before he asked another crucial question, "Martin, just how many people have ever tasted your fine collection of wines?"

    He sat down as he probed his memory to find the answer, "Well it would have to be Sharon's father before he died, back in ninety four and again a little further back in eighty seven, there has been no one else. I like to only show them to people I feel comfortable with."

    Ben felt honoured at being only the second person to ever taste these fantastic wines. He also felt sorry that Martin was turning out to be a bit of a recluse who could only trust a select few. Maybe Sharon was the link here? After all the only two males in her life are or were her father and now himself.

    "Joan can't stand my brews, she hates alcohol. Here try this rose."

    In the end Ben felt amazed at each and every one of uncle Martin's wines. He was also amazed at how time just flies when your having fun and now his wife had appeared to tell him that this little party was now over.

    "We have to go now, get an early night. We need to be fresh for our court appearance in the morning."

    He felt okay until he tried to reply "O,o......furn, heruurh......." Trying to compensate for his lack of mouth coordination he stood up feeling his whole body stagger before blackness came.

    Shaz watched her husband get up way too quickly, take a few short steps forward before falling forward to land on the floor at her feet. Giving uncle Martin a scorching look she said, "Great, just great! Thank you very much."

    Martin looked up at her from his seat and looking like a little child who had just been scolded for steeling muttered, "I got carried away, I wanted him to voice his opinions on my entire collection."

"How could I forget the amount of times my father crawled out of this shed intoxicated from your wines. Come on, help me dump him in the car."