Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2151840-To-Turf-or-Not-to-Turf
Rated: E · Fiction · Comedy · #2151840
Mathman to the rescue!
I shut the windows to drown out the desperate cries from outside but it didn't help. Each yellow blade of grass was screaming for a drop of water until their voices rose as one to assault my ears.

"I can't take it anymore," I hissed at Mathman. Peeking through the bedroom blinds and into the backyard I watched as the withered grass writhed in agony. "What harm could there be in setting the sprinkler out?"

Mathman glanced up from the computer and shrugged his muscular shoulders. "No can do, honey-cakes. Budget sat me down for a chat last night and got on our case about our spending habits. We've been cut off."

I shoved five extra pillows off our unmade bed and flopped onto the mattress. "You're supposed to be a superhero," I puckered my lips into an exaggerated pout. "Can't you just vanquish the evil Budget?"

"It's not just the money," Mathman stood. His cape fluttered behind him and the white 'M' on his chest sparkled. "There's a drought afoot. If we pamper the grass our neighbors will turn on us. I'll be fighting off new foes left and right!"

"Well, can't you just vanquish the drought, then?" the bitter whine that escaped my mouth sounded eerily familiar and, I smacked my lips, carried a faint earthy flavor. Mathman must have thought the whine sounded familiar, as well, for he fixed his dazzling green eyes on my face and frowned.

"Are you feeling all right?"

I rolled my eyes, "Of course. The yard, on the other hand, is not. What're you going to do to help?" My hands found a sixth pillow hiding under the rumpled comforter. When Mathman turned his thoughtful gaze to the wall, no doubt using his x-ray vision to peruse the brown landscape outside, I lobbed the soft missile at his head. With a yawn Mathman deflected the blow and the pillow dropped to the floor.

"You know yard work is my kryptonite, honey-cakes," Mathman grunted. "The grass will just have to be patient and either wait until I get my raise from the SuperAcademy and Budget releases us from its clutches, or the drought ends."

"Or," I paused and bit my bottom lip as Mathman sank back into his chair in front of the computer, "I could ask Wade to work his magic —"

The computer chair whirled back and smashed into the wall as Mathman flew into a fit of temper. "Your ex? No, way! He's a Supercreep! Remember the last time he was in town? He kidnapped and threatened to drown you unless I handed over Water Works!"

"But you saved the day and gardens all over town flourished from the deluge he released from the skies!" I slipped off the bed and knelt on the floor. Thrusting a hand under the bed, I felt around until I grasped the laces of my left boot and yanked it out. I crammed my foot past the boot's tongue.

"Look," I muttered, "Wade may be a sore loser at Monopoly and, well, The Game of Life, but he holds the power of rain in his hands. Like it or not, we need his help before the grass revolts. Do you really want our lawn tearing loose and rolling away to Oregon?"

Mathman crouched down and pressed a gentle hand against my thigh. "Take your boots off, I'll go talk to him. "

"Really?" I squealed like a stuck pig and threw my arms around his thick neck.

"Don't squeeze me to death," he pulled me off and grinned, "I just need to track down where — "

"Oh, he's meeting me outside in," I glanced at my wristwatch, "About ten minutes. I called him earlier." I offered Mathman a sweet smile and tried not to laugh when his jaw dropped.

Mathman grumbled as he stalked from the bedroom. I followed behind, hiding in his massive shadow, before settling down on the window seat that overlooked the backyard. I cracked open the pane for easy eavesdropping.

"Mathman?" Wade's voice sounded surprised. "I was supposed to meet the Yellow Momster for a game of Candyland —"

"Plan's been changed, Wade," Mathman snorted. "You get to play with me today."

Wade adjusted his black-framed glasses. His wiry arms folded across his thin chest, hiding the blue and red "RM" emblazoned on the front of his skin-tight suit.

"What are we playing for?" Wade coughed and brought out an inhaler. He glared over the top of the canister as he sucked in a puff. "And don't call me Wade. I don't call you Jerry now, do I? Show me some respect and call me by my super name."

I giggled as Mathman sighed in exasperation. His breath blew like a gale and Wade had to lean into it to stay standing.

"Fine, RainMaster. If I win, you give this neighborhood a good watering every week. And if you win — "

"I get Momster."

"What? No!"

Wade's face fell. "But...she's the only one that comes close to challenging me at Connect Four!" Gray clouds crawled across the blue sky.

"Too bad," Mathman scowled, "Find something else for your prize."

"No!" Wade sniffed, "I'm not playing if I can't win Momster!" Thunder rumbled and a bolt of lightning flashed.

"Make me!" Mathman taunted. Wade raised an arm above his head and a flood of water poured from the sky, flattening Mathman to the ground.

"m=Δy/Δx !" Mathman shouted as the water pounded his face into the dirt. A shimmering slope appeared over his head, diverting the water toward Wade and knocking the superjerk off his feet. With a pout, Wade flew out of the ankle deep water and disappeared into the dark clouds.

I ran outside and hugged Mathman's slick side. "My hero!"

"Looks like the minions will be doing some surfing on the turf this summer," Mathman groaned as the deep water pooled over the yard and the grass sighed in relief.
© Copyright 2018 Genipher (geniphery at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2151840-To-Turf-or-Not-to-Turf