Peas

“…. I told you, I DON’T KNOW WHERE THE PEA IS!!!” Jolene screamed. The girl blinked away tears from her already small eyes made puffy by the accumulation of tears. The Yeast Master released Jolene from her firm grip and threw her to the ground. Jolene looked up at the Yeast Master and winced when she tasted the metallic tang of blood. She cut her lips on the ground.

I cannot let the location of the Pea be known. It must be protected. The mystery must go on.

The Yeast Master was an aging lady with a scarf wrapped tightly around her hair. Her skin was yellow and her eyes were sullen from the decades of searching for that one thing that most men have trouble searching for. Her rags screamed her ignorance for the material world of today for her only purpose on this Earth is one.

The Yeast Master shivers at the memory from her distant past. She vaguely remembers a hand. A sensation. THE PEA.

“You must believe me.” Jolene choked as tears streamed down and mixed with the blood on her lips.

The Yeast Master still looks as if she is lost in a reverie. Smiling faintly at something that once pleased her. Her body swayed side to side and her frequency intensified as she swayed more and more.

Sensing an opportunity, Jolene crawled towards the door at the end of the room. The Yeast Master was not a foolish woman and easily strode over to Jolene and pulled her by the hair. The poor girl struggled and cried as the evil Yeast Master dragged her to the other side of the room and flung her against the wall. The back of her head made contact with the concrete wall with a deafening crack.

Despite the throbbing sensation at the back of her head, Jolene spat, “What do you want the pea for? You’re nothing but a dried up old cunt. YOU DON’T NEED IT. IT WON’T FUNCTION ON YOU ANYMORE. HAHAHAHAHAHA” Jolene laughed maniacally.

Outraged, the Yeast Master grabbed the bleeding girl by her hair once more and flung her out the open window, onto the streets outside. A sickening thud was heard and a chorus of frantic screams ensued.

*

Somewhere far away, a woman’s moans cut through the silence of the night.

That’s the sound. Someone else KNOWS where the pea is. I must find that someone.

The Yeast Master followed the sounds. With every step she took, the moans became more audible. Soon her pace built up in rhythm with the cries of the disembodied voice.

She came upon an abandoned shack and the Yeast Master was very sure that this is the place.

*

“You know where the pea is. Tell me where the pea is.” The Yeast Master demanded of the woman.

The woman was sitting at the side of a bed and had her back turned to the Yeast Master. She turned around slowly to see who had intruded her privacy. The moonlight illuminated the glistening sweat on the woman’s brows and her hair plastered to the sides of her face. Her white night gown glowed even more under the moonlight. The woman turned her head a little more to make out the identity of the stranger. In the darkness, the Yeast Master could see that the woman had a glazed over look in her eyes.

It’s not time to ask her questions. It’s too soon.

The girl started speaking.

“Like the onset of a waterfall,
Hidden deep in the cave of greatest desires,
A passage where rose petals flow,
For just awhile under the Luna’s glow.”

The girl repeated it again and again. Each repetition sounding more and more like a chant.

The Yeast Master cut through her chants, “Where. is. The. pea?”

The girl’s eyes danced with laughter and continued her chants.

The Yeast Master’s tempers were flaring again and she lifted a hand, ready to strike the poor girl across the face. The girl stood up and grabbed her hand.

Without breaking eye contact, the girl directed the Yeast Master’s hand somewhere else.

“Oh..” the Yeast Master murmured.

But Jolene has been right all along. It no longer functioned for the old lady.

The Yeast Master murdered an innocent girl’s life over something so obvious. Something so…present. Something…already…belonging to the Yeast Master herself.

****

LOL. Too much of Da Vinci Code. A pathetic attempt, but an attempt to contribute none the less.

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