The Steak Holders

The Thread, found wallowing, curled in the chartreuse dark sea, needed to be taken out and dried by the roaring windfarm and desert magnifying glass, so that Sheba and the BK could concentrate on finding a solution for the opening of the Straight and Narrow which had riveted everyone’s attention for at least one news cycle.

Now that the Despot was incarcerated in the Prison of Confusion, they had a chance to bring the Steak Holders in from the cold, where they had sat shivering patiently.

They had a get together, a gathering of the clans, a summit of the interested. Holding out their high steaks on heavy rollers, on plastic trays and silver slavers. They fired up the barbie doll, where the steaks might be burnt and yet bloody, apparently, but personally I don’t get it.

They all brought their meats in special refrigerated back packs, sou vide. Travelling from all over, to make sure that their voice was heard. Was anyone listening? Who shall be the arbiter chair. She Sphinx sat solemn and in listening mode. I shall be the gallery for your thoughts, she said, a garden for your roses, a rain forest for your frogs.

A vote, counted and secured, Yes, they said, You shall chair the meeting.

The Holders lined up, to lay out their arguments and steaks on the gridle above the voracious flames, above the charred remains of ancient trees infused with all manner of herbal infusions and curry leaves.

Hidden by smoke four years and a day, until the food would roast away upon a skewer. Tenderised by shouting loud into its eyes, by thundering salt into its ears, by standing round, drink up your beers. But when the meat has turned to a crisp, the blood has all gone up in flames, standing talking to the man who lives next door, in the bigger house, his clever wife and children running wild about the flowerpot under lime.

You tell him what you’re all about. About the day you came about, and turned the ship to step aside, from all the racing cars that stopped upon the motorway. That traffic jam the other day was way beyond belief, we all sat there in rows and rows, waiting for the show to start and then the children fell asleep. When the curtain rose again, we all drove fast, each down his lane, until, at last, end came in sight and we knew that we just might, get to the place we went before, when fun fares shut the other worlds away.

 ‘Keep Out’ the safety sign would say, keep out and don’t come round here again, the barbecue has broken down, flowers trampled in the rain, the lawn has turned away to mud. Leave me be, I’ve stepped aside, I don’t believe your something ride, I don’t believe the things you say about the world, just go away. I want to hold my thoughts in peace, let them drift and then release, them high into the thinning air, to float about together there, with all the wondrous things that can’t be bought, or syphoned off, like cream or other kinds of froth, that rises up above the fray, and can’t be bought upon Ubay.

This is what the Holders said, They all came up and shook my hand, we all agree that now he’s gone (They nodded at the Despots Goal), we’ll dive for pearls down on the sand, well cook our steaks and share the slaw, we’ll study international law, the laws that balance all the needs, of all the places that we’re from and makes the frame work for our talks and then well all go on long walks.

They ate the steaks and chewed the fat, which tasted good with salt and that, reddish sauce which always helps, to drown the out the sniffles and the yelps, of under whelmed dinners who wanted to be told the score, how much it cost to chop the slaw and wash the pots and clean the floor, because no one likes to think about the dreadful mess he left for us, the Despot spewing out rude words instead of cleaning up the plates.

When the plates were cleared away, leaving only stains upon the table cloth, soon lifted clear in a cool wash. The dessert wines had sweetened us, the cheese and fruit we didn’t need, but somehow ate before we left.

We touched each other on the arm, a tenderness described within. We showed that we now understood, that it was for the greater good, the bigger picture on the screen, clearer now, with colours unadulterated, no fizzing greens and unreal blues, now just simple hues, that cool our thoughts and take us home, where we once knew, the way to cook an Irish stew.