Monster Commute – a Traffic Novel

So, when I was in my late 20′s, my grandpa died, leaving my grandma “Marty” alone.

I’d always been really close with my grandma, so I started hanging out with her more, doing her shopping, and sharing meals with her every now and again. She was quite a character, and was the total Matriarch of our family. She didn’t take crap from anybody, anytime.

At this point, I was working part-time at a bakery with Pete Harless, going to school for Fine Arts at EWU, and playing in a band. Time was short, and I wasn’t getting a lot of sleep.

Anyway, Marty would let me take her car to the bakery the nights that I worked, saving me a couple of hours of sleep. It was great, as I’d been taking the bus, and had overslept my stop a couple of times.

I’d go to Grandma’s house after school, and sleep until about 8 pm, when I’d have dinner with her.

One evening after the meal she said “Do you want a banana milkshake, dear?” I didn’t hesitate to say “YEAH” as I love sweets, ice-creme, bananas, and blenders.

I watch as she pulled 3 shriveled black bananas out of the freezer, and proceeded to blend them with ice cubes, some sugar, and a little milk. I looked in horror, but didn’t say anything. I was simply expecting fresh, ripe bananas, not frozen, black twigs of dead fruit.

Not wanting to disappoint her, I drank two of her largest glasses of this concoxtion which contained more alcohol than say, sugar. It didn’t really taste like any shake I’d ever had, but I smiled and thanked my grannie.

As I began work, my stomach began to churn. It was kind of like when you run over a marble with your vaccuum cleaner; it is powerful and violent.

I don’t remember much more that happened after that, but I was dying for a day. It was like getting punched in the gut by an angered Mr. T.

Every time I think of those shriveled little bananas, I just think of King Tut’s bony, ancient hands, and his black frozen banana fingers.

I miss you grandma!

- Daniel

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