The Town and Country Mice, Redux

“Bess, you call this a guestroom?” Jennifer, who just arrived from the city to visit her cousin in Podunk, haughtily scoffed at the smallness of the room she would use for the night. “My bathroom is twice as big as this is.”

Bess, in awe of her city cousin, couldn’t stop apologizing for the sleeping arrangement. “I know, Jennifer, I know. It’s only for a night, and then we both will be going to your home.”

After she graduated from Mrs. Pumphrey’s Private Academy for Young Ladies where she majored in snobbery, Jennifer had decided to stop and visit her cousin for one night on her way home. She was bringing Bess back for two weeks to show her the wonders of the big city.

Earlier in the day, Bess had taken her on a tour of the small village of Podunk. Jennifer made snide remarks all during a home-cooked meal at the town’s only cafe, telling Bess of the marvelous restaurants with magnificent meals awaiting them in the city. Walking past the local movie theater that advertised a five-year-old movie on its marquee, she told Bess of attending star-studded openings of plays and going to the opera to hear singers of worldwide fame.

By the next day, Jennifer was more than ready to return home with her cousin. Bess took one last glance at her small village as they drove away in Jennifer’s new, cherry red, Cadillac convertible. That afternoon, they finally reached the city, a bustling place filled with people, fumes from thousands of polluting vehicles, and constant noise.

“So, Bess, what do you want to do tonight?” asked Jennifer, after the two young women finished a silent meal with Jennifer’s parents. It had been an uncomfortable time for Bess. She was more familiar with often heated conversations while eating dinner with her family. Not waiting for an answer, Jennifer said, excitement in her voice, “I think you might enjoy the Joffrey Ballet. They’re at the city’s opera house performing “Giselle” for the next week.”

This decided, without giving anyone else a chance to express their opinion, Jennifer nearly dragged Bess out of her house to show off one of the wonders of the city. Even while Bess tried to enjoy the ballet, her cousin continued to extol the benefits of city living as apposed to that of a stifling country existence.

When the ballet ended around 10 p.m., Jennifer next decided they should walk the short distance to an expensive eatery for a late snack. Leaving the convertible safely parked near the opera house, the two young women started down the dimly lit street, now empty of other opera aficionados.

When they reached the restaurant, where a neon sign blinked its name in muted green letters, an obsequious headwaiter swiftly led them to an empty table. He knew Jennifer from previous visits and expected a big tip from her. He gave the woman with her a disdainful look while telling Jennifer, “We missed you, Miss Blakely. It’s good to see you again.” His snub of her went whizzing harmlessly over Bess’s head, and she smiled at the man for remembering her cousin.

“Now, Bess, you’re going to taste a treat, nothing like that simple fare we ate in your village café.” In short order, the waitress was delivering their orders of “Double-Dutch chocolate, decadently rich cake.” Bess closed her eyes in ecstasy at her first bite of this delicacy. Never had she tasted such a wonder as this before.

When they finished this delicious meal, Jennifer and Bess started back to where they had left the car. Suddenly, out of a dark alley came a masked man holding a gun. He pointed it at the two frightened women. “Gimme your cash and jewelry,” he said in a low menacing voice. “Hurry up, and don’t give me any guff!” He snatched Jennifer’s purse from her and waited impatiently for them to strip off their rings and necklaces. “Now, turn and face the street. If you look around, I’ll shoot one of you.” With this last threat, the thief ran off into the darkness of the night.

Once the two traumatized women were safely back in the car and heading toward Jennifer’s house, Bess managed to say, in a still shaking voice, “I think I’d prefer going home tomorrow instead of staying here any more.” She looked down at her naked finger on which, until tonight, she had worn an antique ring handed down from generation to generation by the females in her family. Tears started running down her face, and she wondered how she would tell her mother of the loss of the precious family heirloom.

“Are you sure, Bess?” asked Jennifer, also mourning the loss of her jewelry. In her case, it was a string of matched pearls from Tiffany, given to her on her last birthday by her parents. “There’s so much for you to experience here still. Don’t you want to check out more restaurants and maybe visit a museum or two?” She turned into the circular driveway of her large house. After driving into the three-car garage, she thought of another argument to convince her cousin to remain in the city, “You’ll never find any of those back in your tiny hometown, you know.”

“I know!” Bess answered, getting out of the car. “I also know no one will mug me in town like we just were.” She waited while Jennifer turned off the car’s engine and joined her. “I think I’m just a country mouse at heart and should stay there, but I do thank you for showing me that ‘Better beans and bacon in peace than cakes and ale in fear,’ to quote Aesop.”

Winner of 06/27/07 daily Writer's Cramp contest