The Life of a Pencil, part 2 (1,584 words)

Part 2

 

It turned out to be very providential that Florence joined my small realm of thought and conversation. I hadn't realized it, but I was about to snap.  Being alone with my own thoughts was driving me cray-cray, if you know what I mean. Now with Florence in my life, everything balanced out. I could think sanely again.

What are you doing?

I'm making an oral history of our friendship.

Notoo, you come up with the most creative things! What is an oral history?

It's like a story of what happened in the past, but since I don't have any paper, and we're kinda stuck here in this box, I'm saying it out loud. I'll practice telling our story until I find the best word choices, and then eventually I'll tell other pencils that will come after us. It will be passed down, generation to generation of pencils, Florence. Wouldn't it be awesome if the story of our lives lived on?

Um, I guess so? I don't know. Does it matter? I mean, we're just pencils. Nothing special.

Nothing special? Are you kidding me? Just pencils? Bah! There is no such thing as "just" being a pencil. Well, ok, sure, there are pencils that don't really do anything significant with their lives. Like golf pencils.

Golf pencils?
 

Yeah, those little short ones?

Oh, right.

All those pencils do is right down game scores. Charlie got 10 points. Sam got 2. Fred got 6.

Don't tell me you know how to play golf too!

No, I'm only giving examples. Examples of what you don't want to do with your life. 

Notoo?

Mmhm?

I think we might be--yes! Look! That worker is grabbing the boxes in front of us. Watch out!

AAaaaaahhhh!!

 

Oral History Take 2: And so it happened, that Florence and I found ourselves flying through the air.

"Notoo! Where are they taking us?" Florence screamed.

"I don't know, Florence, but don't worry." I replied calmly. "I'm right here. I will not leave you."

"A lot of help that is," she yelled rudely. "You couldn't leave me if you wanted to!"

"Now let's not quarrel, Florence dear," I soothed in a deep voice.

You did NOT call me "dear."

Hey, it's my oral history. It's the feeling of the drama that counts, not the particulars.

Please don't call me "dear." It sounds unnatural.

As I was saying, we were flying through the air, going who knows where when, plop! we were set down--rather harshly one would think for tender pencils as ourselves--on a new shelf. Except it wasn't a metal shelf. It was a sort of cardboard shelf. We found out later it was a brand new display set on the edge of the aisle.
 

And it read, "Back to School Supplies."

Florence! You're giving away the story!

Sorry. Not sorry. Well, kinda sorry. I'm sorry I interrupted your oral history and ruined your story. Will you forgive me?

Will you let me finish the story my way?

Yes. I won't even make a peep.

Ok then.

Would you have forgiven me anyway?

Yes.

Good. You can call me "dear" if you really want to, Notoo.

No, you're right, it sounds weird.

I agree. Go ahead with your oral history then.

As I was saying, we were put on a brand new sales display. There was only one thing on my mind now: getting into the hands of the next Rembrandt.

Or Shakespeare!

Right! So, I told Florence we better stand up straight and look our finest. After all, we were--

--fresh out of the factory.

Florence! I thought you said you wouldn't make a peep!

I'm sorry. I really am.

Anyway, we did. We really did. I knew we were making a good impression because the sales worker put us right in front. Right where the fluorescent lights hit us at the most desirable angle making us shine. We stood there at full attention and just glowed. And the whole time, I was thinking about my future. It's funny, but I didn't think of Florence's future.

That's mean!

Well, I didn't! But I think I kinda took it for granted that wherever I went, you would go too.

Oh, well, I guess that's not too mean then.

Anyway, I was standing there imagining. Standing straight and tall. And tall and straight. And that light was shining right off me. It got kinda hot. I know I felt like sweating. Did you feel like sweating, Florence?

Florence?

You said you didn't want me to say anything!

I do if I'm asking you a question!

Oh! I didn't know the rules. I've never heard someone give an oral history before, you know. I'm fresh out of the factory. No experience.

You're right. I'm sorry. Yes, if I ask you a question, you can answer.

Well, to answer your question then, ladies never sweat. They glisten. And I was glistening a whole lot. Like, I was glistening enough to make the cardboard box soggy.

Ew, ok, moving on. It was getting hotter and hotter, and then all of a sudden, it went dark. Pitch black. But, don't worry, future pencils, it wasn't anything scary. It was just the end of the night shift. We'd have to wait until tomorrow to be picked.

That's the end of my oral history for now.

You told it out of order.

No, I didn't.

Yes, you did. You said that we were moved to the display and then we stood straight because we wanted to be picked. But really, we were moved to the display, freaked out for about an hour, you gave a soliloquy about what you were going to do when you finally made it into the great, big world, then the lights went out for the night, and then we sweated all this morning.

Who's oral history is this? And how did you learn the word "soliloquy"?

Cliff Notes taught me.

Hmm, maybe I should have a talk with him myself. What does it mean?

It means you talked without me interrupting for a long time. I'm sorry I interrupt you so much, Notoo. You really do give beautiful soliloquies.

Ah, thanks.

Are you going to practice re-telling your oral history in order?

Do you think I need to?

Hey, Notoo?

I don't really see what it matters. We sweated either way, either last night or this morning.

Notoo!

It's not like the facts change--

Incoming 9 o'clock!

What? Is that more Cliff Notes lingo?

INCOMING 9 O'CLOCK! LOOK TO YOUR LEFT! TO YOUR LEFT!

I don't know what--hey! Those people are looking at us! Stand tall! Tall, Florence, tall!

I'm trying! I'm trying!

Shine, oh fluorescent light, shine! I knew this was our day of destiny!

Sweet, sweet people, take me to a good home!

Take me to the next C.S. Lewis!

Hold me and care for me and call me your own sweet pencil and never let me go!

Do great things with me! Write words that future generations will read over and over!

They're picking us up, Notoo!
 

They're putting us back down!

They're picking us up again!

This is it, Florence! This is the moment our dreams come true. Remember it, Florence! Remember it with your mind's eye. Capture this moment. The gleam of the lights. The warmth of the hands. The last feeling of being cramped with 11 other pencils in a box. The confinement. Remember the confinement. This is the last time we will feel it, Florence! In a little bit, we will be set free! Free to do what we were made to do! Free to make a mark on this world! Are you capturing it, Florence?

I'm trying! I'm trying!

Because when this season of our life is over, and we look back from happier days, you are going to be the one telling this part of our oral history.

Oh, Notoo! Are you serious?

Hold on, Florence! We're falling!

Dear Oral History...

You don't start off an oral history saying "dear" like you're writing a letter, Florence.

You do if you're me! Dear Oral History, as Notoo promised me that I could tell this part of the story, I will do so now. In order. And accurately.

Oh brother.

Notoo and I found ourselves in the bottom of a cart. We were rolled all across the store, and Notoo got quite motion sick.

Florence!

But that's ok, because I was right there with him the whole time, reminding him that soon we would be at our new home. Eventually we were put on the checkout counter, our box's barcode scanned, and we were tossed into a plastic bag with a bunch of other office supplies. There was a box of crayons, and another box of pencils, and a plastic bubble thingy of pencil-top erasers. Notoo was excited about those erasers. He said it would keep us in shape longer. I did not know what he meant, but when Notoo gets excited, I get excited too, because we are friends. Anyway, there was also a stapler in the bag, and staples, and paper clips, and sticky notes, and a dictionary and a thesaurus--

But no Cliff Notes.

No. There were no Cliff Notes. So I told you I would teach you everything I had learned so you could use words like "soliloquy" too.

Yup. Ok, it's my turn to finish the Oral History.

 

A pox upon me if I do not bequeath thee thy wish.