Edith P. Buckle and the Beings of Infinite Knowledge


“–And she found them down in the basement there. On the couch–yes, yes, the brand new one they just got–And they were making the fellatio! On each other! Can you believe–that’s what I wanted to know–oh, I know, I told her not to let them move in–and I tell you what I would have done–Me too. Exactly and you know another thing?–You heard that too? I told her that would happen–Uh huh. I said the same thing and–”

There was a buzzing like a million coked-up bees. A light three times greener than the grass on the other side. She looked around. The universe burped–

And snow he sat on a white sphere in a white sphere, her cellphone still to her ear. She blinked and said, “Gladys? Gladys? Are you there? I think I’ve been transported somewhere.”

There was only silence over the phone. She hung up. The sphere she sat on was more comfortable than you would of thought to look at it. The room, lacking any and all corners and any visible source of the soft, white light that filled gave it an apparent impossibility of form, but she could feel how round it was. It seemed logical anyways. She had always imagined that if and when she was transported off somewhere it would be either a sphere or a pyramid. She had told Gladys the same thing and they had both agreed that a sphere was much more preferable to a pyramid. And God forbid some kind of cave.

Edith Buckle,” the voice, disembodied and contralto, said.

“Present,” she said.

“You have been brought to our planetoid, “ in intoned, “at the farthest reach of the KNOWN UNIVERSE.”

“I figured that much,” she said, “so is this for sex experiments or what? Because I will tell you people or whatever you are one thing. This lady’s vagina is exit only, buster!”

“We are not interested in expanding your copulative abilities. Unless that’s something you would be into. No. We are here to share our infinite knowledge of the cosmos.”

“You are, are you. Well, let me tell you–”

“You have no way to comprehend the truth of the nature of space and time, but we shall reveal all to you–“

“Don’t tell me what I do and do not know, mister, I mean, everyone thought that Mirna Davis was the all that and the Sunday service, but I tell you that that is not coffee in that mug she grips in those manicured paws all day long, no siree, she was missus glug glug glug burp burp burp, that’s for sure.”


“And Rita Sutcliffe. She was barfing up her tuna sandwich faster than she could get it in her if you know what I mean, because you now that Richard has loose eyes when it comes to skinny thighs–”

“I do.”

“And Jim and Mary Kelly are not sleeping in the same room let alone the same bed and if you think it’s not because his you-know-what stopped working after she got hooked on the ice cream after her little incident with her boss down at the plant, let me tell you something–”

“Yes. Tell me more. Dish the dirt.”

“Well, you know how Gloria and Ted’s newborn son came out with red hair, while she’s chestnut and he’s tawny. Well, what colour hair do you suppose the new mailman has?”

“You don’t mean–“

“Do I? I’m just saying. And he certainly takes his sweet time sorting their bills and flyers.”

“My goodness. What does Ted think?”

“I can’t say for sure but I know that he’s been spending a lot more time down at the bowling alley.”

“Well, why wouldn’t he?”

“Exactly, I said the same thing. The poor guy, he works his butt off at the landfill to put food on the table and here she is licking stamps with some light in the loafer letter jockey. And how about Petunia Green? She’s on so many pills since Stephen left her that she’s affecting air traffic over the neighbourhood. She’s that high.”

“The poor woman–“

“I know, I know. And guess what? The little Lancaster girl–”

“Mary Anne?”

“Uh huh, well, she’s been moved onto the short bus and it has not been easy on them–”

“I can’t imagine–“

“You and me both, let me tell you–and Lorna Newcombe’s brother is back on their couch after his little run-in with the law.”

“Are you serious? Again?”

“You didn’t hear it here, but he got caught with his hands down his sweatpants outside the elementary school, so–”


“I know, right? She’s going greyer than Gandalf.”

“Of course, who wouldn’t?”

“And Dudley Oswald found a lump–”

“Oh no–“

“And Cathy Andrews has been passing bad cheques–

“I don’t–“

“And Ophelia Stephanos is no longer welcome at the Shady Lane Restaurant–”

“You don’t say–“

“And Harriet Jansen–”

“Are you–“

“I am, and–hey, speaking of everything, what was all this infinite knowledge of the universe you were yammering on about?”

“Well, let me tell you–“




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s