Yellow Bomba

"Hey, Babe, I'm headed out to the hairstylist. Have you seen my other yellow sock? You know, my favorite one? I can't find the match." She held up one sock and waved it at her husband, Jim.

"No. Did you check the laundry room?"

"Of course - I checked all of my drawers."

"Another mystery: Chapter Ninety-nine of the Missing Sock Saga."

"Very funny, Jim. I'll wear a different pair. I won't be gone long, see you soon."

(I heard this from my misplaced position, hidden from sight. )

"Won't be gone long…. what a joke. Geena gets her hair done, which takes hours, and then she stops off to shop. I have pretty much all day alone, but…these throw rugs need to be washed. There is so much dog hair and dust; I'll take them to the laundromat. No way will all this hair clog up our drains! Ick. I love these dogs, but the hair! Geena can't carry all this; the baskets are way too heavy. I'll surprise her."

I listened to Jim's plans to go to the laundromat. Basil, that damned young mutt, had dragged me away from my other half. I'm the missing sock, a yellow Bomba, crumpled up and smothered under one of the rugs. His paws thumped over the hardwoods, whining, his nose sniffing. He jumped on the bed and pawed all the covers around until he was covered in them, snorting like a pig and then farting! That dog is disgusting.

Basil slept briefly, then jumped down and began rooting in the laundry bin. There’s a toy bin but he prefers socks and underwear; disgusting, like I said. Minding my business, I was quietly lying on Geena's magazine where she had dropped me. I heard Basil trot up (his tags on collar jingle), and sure enough, the next thing I knew, he had me in his mouth. It was painful, the way he slung me around, crunching me with his sharp teeth, shaking me back and forth. It's a wonder all my threads didn't come undone and shoot across the room like Silly Putty! I hated that dog, all fifteen pounds of him! When he dropped me, I was full of slimy dog saliva. He wasn't done, though. Next, he batted me with his paw, back and forth, spinning me on the hardwoods. He finally tired of me when Jim told him to get a biscuit. As he tried to run, his claws dug into the throw rug, and I ended up under it.

For an entire week, I've been under this throw rug. I wonder how no one notices it is not in its usual place. If Geena had picked up the rug, she would have seen me! Instead, she walked across me twice daily, and Basil galloped over me; Jim’s feet pounded over me, so I was bruised and dirty.

Geena's feet were soft because she rubbed lightly fragranced shea butter into her feet every morning and night. The smell was heavenly. I even smelled it from under the throw rug. I tried to peek out from one corner but couldn’t. She was still looking for me, but in the meantime, she wore some old socks she got at Marshall's.

**

Jim padded around the house in his gray socks, readying all the items for his laundry trip. The numerous quarters jingled loudly as he dug them out of his jar. I heard him counting out the quarters and talking to himself. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Damn! I remember when the loads were a dollar, but now they are two dollars. It's worth it, though; it's still cheaper than calling a plumber for clogged drains. That guy who fixed our washer said he always takes items with lint or lots of fall-out to the laundry. I'll vacuum, get the rugs washed and dried, and then tonight, yessirree, I'll get lucky!"

He keeps counting and jingling the quarters. It was so annoying; I was tired of his noise, and then, the sound of the vacuum worried me. One time he almost sucked me up into it. He has always been more careless than Geena. Jim vacuums quickly to say he did it but needs to be more thorough. He just wanted to finish it and play tennis or hit the gym.

I remember when Geena selected me. I was in a resale store, and she felt my soft threads, held me to her cheek, and cried out that I was so soft. Geena had never heard of Bombas; we are mainly sold online. The person who initially bought me decided I wasn't what she wanted, so she put me in a high-end resale store. I'm yellow and white, and the store owner accepted me after a thorough exam. When the seller left, the owner laid me near some expensive Nike shoes with a yellow stripe. The yellow drew in Geena because she loves bright yellow, and she painted the house laundry room yellow. Geena never puts me in the dryer, either. She washes us on the gentle cycle with her pajamas, using a light spin; then she hangs me and my partner to dry.

**

"Basil, I will wash these rugs and get all of your hair out of them. You lie down and be good while I'm gone. NO, you are NOT coming with me! Go lay down!" He pointed to that stinky mutt's bed.

Jim, you should swat him with the magazine. If you trained the damned mutt, he wouldn't chew up everything!

Suddenly movement caught my attention. Oh, no! No, no, no! I'm bunched and hidden under this rug. Jim has grabbed it and balled it up with me in it; he shoved the rugs into the laundry basket, and I'm unnoticed, still under the rug. I can barely breathe; these rugs are heavy and full of dog hair. Ow! He put another five rugs on top. Jim, Jim, stop, I'm under here. He doesn't hear me; he's singing up a storm, loading his truck with the laundry, detergent, and his bag of quarters.

**

I tumbled for a long time in the dryer and finally felt Jim's hand touch the rugs to see if they were dry. It's so hot in here, TAKE ME OUT, JIM! Whew, the dryer finally stopped. He'll notice me now, I know it!

Jim grabbed the rugs and threw them into the laundry baskets. He was late for his tennis game because the dryers took forever. “TEN DOLLARS to dry some throw rugs. Geez. I'm late, so I'll put them back down later.”

**

"Holy Cow, Jim neatened up the place! Oh, yay for my Sweetie. He washed all the throw rugs!" Geena is home. I prefer her to Jim. Jim was so loud and smelly. Geena smelled fantastic and was always quiet. Her feet were so clean and soft when she pulled me and my partner onto them. She'll find me; I know it. I could hear her heating water for tea; then she was on the phone. Geena, Geeeeenaaa, I'm stuffed in the basket with the rugs. Please get me out; I'm suffocating. Oh no, she fell asleep on the couch, Basil curled up next to her. WAIT, here he comes. No! Bad dog! He was rooting in the rugs; damn dog, he pulled some out of the basket and rolled on them. His nose is wet. OH NO! He found me! GEENA, help!!

**

"Hi, Sweetheart. You did the rugs; that was so thoughtful."

"Yeah, I didn’t want you carrying those heavy baskets. I'll do them every week. I didn't have time to put them back down before tennis, but I’ll do it now."

"Okay, I'll help. Wait! Basil! What did you do? Oh, Basil, you tore my yellow sock! Shame!"

Geena didn't hear me whimper as she picked me up. There was a hole in me where her ankle fit inside me. "Basil, you cannot tear my socks. This was my favorite pair!"

"I'm sorry, Babe.” Jim glared at Basil, who grinned back at him, panting. “It’s good you found your sock, right?" She leaned in toward him, fixing him with an angry glare. Then she stomped into the bedroom and slammed the door.

**

I have a plan. I'm going to get rid of that dog. Geena hates Basil too, I’m sure of it. I wiggled my way to the door but had no clue how I could get it open so that Basil could run outside. They always take him on a leash, so he will run and get lost when he gets out. Before I finished my planning, Jim decided they would go to the cabin for the weekend.

"Jim, we need to dress warm. I'm taking mittens, several pairs of socks, and long underwear. I can't wait to sled!" I heard Jim grab her in a big hug and Geena's squeals. She opened the sock drawer and took me out. "You sad little Bomba. Should I take you, even with your hole, or leave you home?"

I tried to flash a bit of heat to encourage her to take me. I hated being in the house when they went away. Ever since stupid Basil ripped me, she has left me in the drawer!

"Yes, little Bomba, you are coming. I can always put on another pair of socks underneath you."

Oh, she felt me sending her warmth, yay! I'm going.

Bouncing along in Geena's weekend bag, I felt warm and cozy, nestled inside her socks and bras. She always used the hot tub at the cabin and then took a shower, lotioned up, and put on socks.

At the cabin, she unpacked everything, so I'm in the dresser drawer now. Wait, Geena, close the drawer all the way. Basil…

And here he is! Jim and Geena were outside in the hot tub, and that damn dog found me, but I'm ready for him. His cold nose sniffed me out, and I leaped onto his snout. He shook his head, and I fell to the floor. Basil grabbed me by the top row of yarn and shook his head from side to side. This time, I unraveled deliberately, twining around his snout and his neck. The more he shook his head, the tighter I got. He laid down, pawing at me, trying to break the thread, as it tightened, making it harder for him to breathe. I saw his eyes staring at me. He knows, he knows, I'm alive! Basil began to whimper, pawing at his nose and throat; louder and louder he whimpered while I tried my best to strangle him.

I was too thin. I couldn't tighten anymore, and Basil's wiggling was close to tearing me in half.

"Basil! What the hell! Basil, how did you get all tangled up?"

It's Jim, come to the rescue. Damn this mutt.

I watched as Jim took out his pocket knife. NO, OWWWW, Jim! You cut me. How could you?

"Jim, what on earth? My sock? What are you doing?" Geena doesn’t understand.

He was cutting me up, ripping me with his knife into shreds. Then he threw me outside in the snow next to the porch. He said, "Geena, sorry, but Basil was all tied up around his nose and throat. I had to cut that damn sock. When you brought those socks home from the resale store, I told you I didn't like them! They had bad vibes, and I was right. They can stay in the mountains for a bird to use in a nest." He slammed the door.

The next day, I heard them drive away and, not too much later, footsteps in the snow.

"Yellow yarn. I can use this!"

I went off with this mountain girl. She turned my trashed yarn into a dreamcatcher. I'm more beautiful this way than as a sock. I'm on her table with her other hand-crafted items at the local farmer's market.

“Geena.” I hear her name. Is it my Geena?

It is! It’s Geena and Jim.

"Jim, look at these earrings. Oh, wait, a dream catcher with my favorite yellow in it."

"Yeah, cool, buy it." My heart soared at Jim’s words.

**

"Jim, Jim, Honey, wake up!"

I heard Jim sit up while Geena spoke softly to him. "Another bad dream? What is happening; do you want to see someone about this?"

I send vibes to Jim every night. Basil sleeps at the foot of the bed and growls at me, the simple dream catcher hung in the window. Geena thinks he is snarling at something outside, but I know he senses me. Jim must be punished for shredding me. Bad vibes, Jim.

**

It's been six months, and tonight might be the night. I heard Jim climb out of bed and go outside barefoot, leaving the front door open. Then I heard him enter the garage out back, slam the car door, and start the engine.

Four hours later, Basil's whining awakened Geena. She felt the cool air from the front door and saw Basil sitting there.

"Basil, what are you guys doing? Jim?" I heard her walk to the door, calling out to Jim. She stepped outside and went to the back, calling his name.

Then she screamed.

I heard sirens and many people coming and going.

Sobs. For many nights. Months.

**

Basil sleeps in the bed with Geena now. It's okay, I don't care. Basil quit growling at me finally.

I hang in the window, cheering up Geena, sending her pleasant dreams every night. Occasionally, I send a nice dream to Basil, but usually, it’s dreams of a bigger dog chasing him. If I hear him whimper, I swing gently in pleasure.

I hope you enjoyed this story. If you did, please give it a heart and subscribe to me. Thanks for reading and supporting Vocal Creators!