Miss Napalm
(an excerpt)
It’s the appointed hour and I’m sitting in the waiting room – waiting. I tap one foot against the other and stare at a magazine that I’m not reading.
‘Hello,’ I say. ‘Hello, hello. Agent Orange here.’
I listen to his response and cackle softly to myself.
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘That’s right. Agent Orange speaking. Miss Napalm calling. Hello, hello.’
He says something, but I’m not sure what.
‘I’m calling,’ I say, speaking slowing and patiently, as if explaining something to a child, ‘because I said I would. I said I would call you at four o’clock and it’s four o’clock now, so I’m calling. Get it?”
He says something, but I’m not sure what.
‘Well, anyway,’ I say. ‘I have got some very good news for you, Pumpkin Face. Yes, I most certainly do.’
I catch the receptionist’s eye. She gives me a big smile. She’s trying to be friendly, though I’ve tried her patience, it must be said.
The receptionist is worried.
She’s tapping a pen rhythmically against her desk and twiddling her hair, which is tied back in a ponytail and has blonde streaks that I personally think she she’d look much better without. She’s on the phone, holding the receiver against her ear with her shoulder, and I’m pretty sure she’s talking about me.
The first thing I said when I walked in was, ‘I don’t want counselling’.
‘No counselling, please,’ I said. ‘I just want to get this over with. In, out. Open, shut. Quick as you can. I do not, repeat do not, want counselling. Got it?’
The second thing I said was, ‘My name is Flora MacDonald.’
‘You don’t have to give us your real name,’ the woman said when I rang up.
‘I can assure you I’m perfectly happy to give you my real name,’ I said. ‘I have absolutely no problem with that at all. None whatsoever.’
‘That’s fine, my love. That’s absolutely fine. You do exactly as you want. We’re just giving you the option, dear. Now, what name can I take?’
‘The name is MacDonald,’ I said, quick as a flash. ‘Flora MacDonald.’
Published in: The Real Writers Anthology 2004