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X-FILES SHORT STORY! A short story taken from the Internet, abridged and edited so to concentrate on the pertinant subject. 12/28/99 Click here for the full text.
IT'S A BEAUTIFUL DAY by Wayne
My wife and I entered our Quaker meetinghouse this Sunday for silent worship. It was a late October day in Vermont. The brilliant fall colors that peaked just a week ago were now mostly splashed on the ground, beginning their fade to brown. There was a decidedly cold wind blowing, a foreboding of another long winter. But the morning sky was a brilliant blue, accentuating the whiteness of clapboards of this old, simple house of worship. As we entered, people were caroling as a prelude to an hour of quiet reflection. We settled in, sitting in our usual spot amongst the benches that were arranged in rows forming a square around the only source of heat--an old woodstove.
As I sang, I scanned the room for the usual familiar faces that normally attended, and for any visitors of which there were two. The one who caught my eye was a young lady in her late 20s sitting on the back bench not far to my left. Not sitting close to anyone, she was apparently by herself. As she sang, I studied her clothing and features: brown embroidered sweater, form-fitting black jeans, brown boots that looked to be worn from hiking. Slim build, medium height, longish tousled blond hair, blue eyes, slightly pushed up nose. Probably of English or Irish descent. What really struck me as her mouth moved was her overbite. Quite pronounced and toward the left side of her mouth. Why did she never bother to have it corrected?
The last song sung, we settled into silence. As usual, I took my glasses off as the blurred vision helped to lessen distraction. About two minutes into the silence in a moment of distraction from my thoughts, I picked up my head slowly and looked around a bit. Through my unfocused vision, many people were in deep contemplation with heads semi-bowed, including my wife. Looking to my left in the direction of the young woman my insides jolted. I thought I saw something...I WAS seeing something I could not believe. She...she was sucking her thumb! I reached down slowly and carefully for my glasses and put them on. No one noticed. I looked at her out of the corner of my eye, sometimes turning my head in her direction. Yes, she was definitely sucking her thumb. Her index finger was over her nose and middle finger gently rubbed the tip of her nose. I could see her lips moving ever so slightly over her thumb.
Soon the sun was streaming in through the window in back of her, enveloping the right side of her face and hair in a warm glow. She continued sucking unabated, almost trance-like. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. No one else seemed to notice. I could not stop watching her. Then, she took her thumb out, apparently taking a break from her contemplation, meditation, whatever it was. It's wetness glistened in the sunlight. I studied her thumb. I was close enough to see a callous. It was quite large, right near the knuckle and reddened. Rather suddenly, she looked toward my direction. Before I could look away, our eyes met. I managed a weak smile and looked down. A few seconds later I started looking up, ever so slowly. She was sucking her thumb again exactly as before. I continued to watch her as discreetly as I could.
"I AM WATCHING YOU," she said. I nearly jumped out of my seat. "Oh Lord, I see you and I hope that you can find a peaceful solution to...", a regular member stood up and intoned. My heart was pounding. As the member still spoke and I slowly recovered from this shock, the young woman to my left continued to suck her thumb. I never saw anything so beautiful, so innocent, so natural.
At the end of the hour, the clerk of the meeting invited everyone to introduce themselves by name and location. When the circle came around to the thumb sucker, I couldn't quite hear her. Was it Kelly Benson or Berenson of New something, New York. New Paltz? Damn! Soon everyone broke into little circles of conversation. But Kelly was slipping out. I told my wife I needed some fresh air and and would meet her outside. I excused myself graciously between welcoming friends toward the door. As I got outside, I saw her getting into a late 90s Honda Civic. I watched as she backed out of her space. Her New York license plate said TSER. As she pulled away, I briefly saw a profile of her face. She was sucking her thumb.
My wife came up behind me and said, "It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" I looked around. My vision saw green grass covered in leaves, sharply defined mountain ranges set off by blue skies. I replied as I should, "It is a beautiful day".
From the book, "Where the Sidewalk Ends", by Shel Silverstein
Mr. Silverstein has two poems on this page. I wonder if this noted author is a thumb sucker. Maybe I should ask him. Thank you Amy for sending us this poem by Shel!
Thumbs
Oh, the thumb-sucker's thumb
May look wrinkled and wet
And withered, and white as the snow,
But the taste of a thumb Is the sweetest taste yet
(As only we thumb-suckers know).
Poem written by yours truly. Sent into the Forum to start some stuff there, and it worked. The other contributions to follow.
The Jewel
“There’s somethin’ dumb,
‘bout suckin’ ya thumb,
much past the age of three,”
they’d say.
But when suddenly eight,
“it’s awfully late.
What are you goin’ ta be?”
they’d say.
So I started to hide,
more time to bide,
but soon I was a teen.
What woeful plight,
could they have been right?
Or perhaps they were only mean.
But twenty’s now past,
wife, job, kids at last,
and being is what I do.
My computer will hum,
me, still sucking thumb,
though now I’m grownup, it’s true.
Whether wrong or right,
I started a site,
called “and then Thumb” and what can this be?
I’m one of a bunch? (So many the crunch),
adults sucking their thumb,
you and me!
Yes, here I am,
“Still suckin’ yer thumb?”
“Sometimes through the night.”
I say.
But now I feel cool,
even through all the drool,
cause suckin’s all right,
less exception,
more rule,
‘specially if through the night,
just look at our site,
with pictures that bite,
and words, erudite,
“My thumb’s my thumb suckin’ jewel!”
I say.
By
H, the guy who does this site.
She had sucked her thumb, knew not what to do.
Others looked at her dumb, “It’s not polite,”
ain’t that true?
So, hidden, beneath her woeful lip,
she came upon an interesting tip.
Her tongue served as well,
Now they all think her swell!
Unlike most children, I hated being tucked into bed at night
"Don't suck your thumb", she'd say, "You'll get an overbite"
But the second the door closed and mom was out of site,
My thumb would enter my mouth, it just felt right.
She told me that my thumb would become deformed, but I wasn't scared
So I continued sucking even when my teachers stared.
The bitter nail polish didn't work at all,
I just took it off with a moist cotton ball.
I should inform you, it's enjoyable, even with braces,
Why did all my orthodentists have such bitter faces?
At age eighteen, the best line did come:
"Will you walk down the aisle sucking your thumb?"
To deal with stress, some people do yoga, or vacation down south,
All I need to do is simply open my mouth.
I'll do it forever, afterall, why should anyone care?
As long as I live, my mouth and thumb are a pair!
By: Kim P. Montreal, Qc.
From "Rona"
Inspiration
When inspiration won't come
I scratch my head and suck my thumb!
Suddenly the thoughts do swirl
For this brown-eye'd thumbsucking girl!
----
Laughing and thanks for your very upbeat take on thumbs!!!! ; ) Rona.. who cherishes her "jewel"
Poem written by Shel Silverstein From Freakin' at the Freakers Ball album, ©1972, Evil Eye Music, Inc.'
Thumbsucker
I met her on a corner in Duluth (That's the truth.)
She was tryin' to fix her shoe in a telephone booth (Her name was Ruth.)
She said she was just waiting for a bus
But I hid my thumb cause I knew just what she was,
And I ain't gonna let no thumbsucker suck my thumb.
It'll drive you crazy and leave you deaf and dumb.
It'll make you crawl and climb the wall
Leave you without no thumb at all.
So I ain't gonna let no thumbsucker suck my thumb.
I'll tell you what them thumbsuckers like to do.
They suck your thumb till it's wrinkled like a prune
They'll say you've got the sweetest thumb of all
But then they suck the thumb of the guy livin' down the hall
That's why I ain't gonna let no thumbsucker suck my thumb
(etc. . . etc. . . until finally giving in.)
This poem was sent in by Eric. Thanks for your effort, Eric.
When it's time to go to bed from a very stressful day
after all my clothes are off and on my bed I lay
I smile as I think of what I'm just about to do
that all throughout my day I have been looking forward too.
I'm in no hurry now for these moments are all mine
no one to tell me hurry up so I think I'll take my time
I slowly lick my lips to get them nice and wet
while my tongue helps out inside my mouth to help me get all set.
Instinctively my fingers bend to make my thumb stick straight
it moves so swiftly to my mouth no longer can I wait
so naturally it goes all in as smooth as smooth can be
It's as if the day has not been right cause it wasnt there in me.
No different than a baby that sucks its mothers breast
I have no choice but to start to suck while on my pillow I rest
My finger curls on top my nose so natural to me
while rhythmically I softly suck and sigh contentedly
Magically my saliva sweetens as if to reinforce
that those who dont are missing something nature does endorse
I fall asleep so rapidly my thumb deep in my mouth
Its just too bad I have this gift thats so hard to talk about.
I'd like to thank "J" for this poem!
I was sitting in my office, had been a stressful day
My wife had called to tell me she was running away
My boss was yelling loudly and threatening my job
I had reached my wit's end and getting ready to sob
I scrambled for my cigs, but the pack was all through
The Scotch bottle was empty! oh, what was I to do
My mental defenses were crumbling now like sand
When suddenly, in front of me, I noticed my hand
At first I just stared at it, and the fingers five
Then my thumb softly called my name, as if it were alive
Louder and louder, the voice was now a shout
If you need a friend right now, just put me in your mouth
My thumb slowly moved towards me, as if a sailing ship
And before I could reason why, it was stuck between my lips
I can't explain what happened then, I really wish I could
But my brain, not thinking well, was mired in the mud
I only know it felt so good, it made me think back years
When I was a child so young, no worry and no fears
I felt so calm, so well at ease, my thoughts just floated free
I dreamt was in my boyhood home, upon my mother's knee
The thoughts of wondrous house, I remembered with a sigh
Our small white dog, my father's pipe, the smell of Apple pie
I stayed like that, with thumb in mouth, the hours really flew
And when awoke from that deep trance, my problems seemed a few
I never liked my job at all, my boss was just a fool
And my wife I couldn't reason with, stubborn as a Mule
All those years I struggled so, the treasures I had sought
Those were things that mattered least, the ones that came to naught
But gifts of love, childhood dreams, and family mem'ries past
Those were really treasures that through all time would last
And were it not for thumb, upon which I used to suck
I wouldn't have remembered them, it was pure and simple luck
So, if life sets you back one day, then take it in you're stride
And this advice please follow, no need to run and hide
No need too in screaming, no need for bitter tears
Just proudly lick and slurp your thumb, your ills will disappear!
I'm too far away from my 7th grade english class to remember how many syllables per line a proper limerick has, but this seems about right;
A Hard Day by Scott (y87t@aol.com)
Sometimes when I've had a really hard day,
And nothing I do seems to go my way,
I pop my thumb in my mouth,
all my problems head south,
Then I realize that everything is going to be ok
Mother
by Sarah Goldsborough August 6, 1999
So many nights So long ago
While Mom watched baby girl
"Be good" they said
And go to bed
Then tucked me in, thumb and all
"Be good" I heard
And be good I did
But not for any worth
Mom still watched baby girl
Then baby boy
Who came and went
"Be good" they said
And lay your head
Lay there quietly
Do not disturb your mother
She needs her rest
You see
So I cried the nights alone
Sniffled quietly
Muffled my grief with pillow and thumb
And waited patiently
But years began
To pass one by one
And mom watched baby boy two
And at night I lay
Quiet and sad
Alone and afraid
My hand in my mouth
But mom never came
Her "rest" without end
Did keep to herself all that woe
So her I do thank
For this habit I have
Of never letting go
Small baby girl
She was born last of all
And mom watched her after boy two
And wait through the night
My thumb in my mouth
And quiet my sadness alone I did do
Imagine my anger
When mom, then, one day
Reached out to my face
And pulled thumb away
"You're too old now" I heard
You're too old, indeed
To want a warm hug
A kiss A small squeeze
These I thought
These I did not say
I wanted so much
For mom to go away
How dare she
After all those years
Of waiting for her
To wipe away tears
She cared not for me
I thought right then and there
She needed control
I needed her out of my hair
How do I gain
Any solace from
An absentee mom
Who was home all the time
"Too old to do that"
I often heard
"Too young to do that"
A few more familiar words
Make up your mind I thought,
And think still
Make up your mind
Then I'll bend to your will
But, to this day
My mom's mind is split
Between "don't do that"
And "But you have to do this"
So solace I need
And comfort I find
In the first place I found it
So way back in time
Always there
If you have any cool thumbsucking poetry or stories, please e-mail me and we'll put them up.