When my niece was young, maybe 12 years old, we would play a story-telling game on car trips. We call it the “AND” game. The way it works is the storyteller gets to tell a story, but if she says the word and? her turn ends and someone else continues.
This is invariably frustrating because just as you get to some important turning point in the story, you get excited and say the word and,? ending your turn.
The next person continues the story and takes it in an entirely different direction.
Sometimes the beloved character so painstakingly developed would be bitten by a rattlesnake and tragically die. Other times space aliens would rip apart the Native American village you had constructed, putting your fictitious characters in a space ship headed for Roswell, N.M.
Over time everyone had become bored playing the game with me. I had learned many alternatives for the word and,? so I could tell a story for 45 minutes and never give anyone a chance to chime in.
My niece, Cassie, however, liked hearing my stories. Id craft romantic epics with a teenage girl in 1905 who fell in love with a pioneer who had become separated from his caravan. Despite a misunderstanding with her father early in the epic, the young man would prove his love and become accepted by the village dwellers.
Last weekend Tommy and I visited my mother in Redding. The next day Mom traveled to Paradise to spend time with my niece and sister.
I phoned up to say hello to the three of them, and was told my mother was taking a nap.
HEATHER: Hey,? I said to my niece who is now 22, Did Nani (grandma) tell you about the wild night we had last night??
CASSIE: No. What??
HEATHER: No way, I cant believe she didnt tell you.?
CASSIE: What? What??
HEATHER: (Laughing). Tommy and I went to the grocery store and we ran into this guy, Vladimir, who is a Russian dancer.?
CASSIE: Oh yeah??
HEATHER: Yeah, I did an interview on this guy about five years ago when he was dancing with his troupe at Laxson. I liked him a lot and I guess they had a gig at the Redding Convention Center or something.
So I invited him over to dinner at Nanis house and he said sure. I guess there was a problem with the translation because when he showed up he had his whole Russian dancing troupe with him, like eight guys.?
CASSIE: Thats funny. I bet Nani was happy.”
HEATHER: Yes, she was amazing. Somehow she found enough food to whip up this really great meal. The guys could barely fit at the dining table. Everyone was waving their arms around, since it was difficult to understand them since we dont speak Russian and they barely speak English.?
CASSIE: (Laughing). Wow, I bet she did have to hustle to pull that off.?
HEATHER: Yes, it was pretty wild. Even though they are Russian, for some reason they were all drinking Ouzo, which is Greek.?
CASSIE: Is that the stuff that tastes like licorice??
HEATHER: Yes. Thats the stuff. They got pretty wild and did a big dance demonstration in the back yard. Apparently one of the traditions with Ouzo is that youre supposed to break plates.
“So Nani had a bunch of plates in one of the boxes in the garage and she said it was OK to break them because she would do some craft project later and make mosaic stepping stones.
(This is entirely something my mother would do if she happened to have some broken plates lying around).
CASSIE: That so sounds like Nani.?
HEATHER: I know.
So, the lead guy, Vladimir, even gave mom his phone number. Hes kind of cute actually, but he was pretty drunk on Ouzo and forgot to write out the country code.
“Mom wont call him I bet, but if she wanted to she could just look in the phone book and find the country code for Russia.
“It doesn’t matter anyway, Mom wont call anyway.?
CASSIE: Do you want me to wake up Nani, shes taking a nap.?
HEATHER: No, thats OK. She’s probably exhausted. Just tell her I called and tell her I put all the bottles in the recycling bin.?
Later that night I got a call from my mother. Apparently she had woken up and my sister and niece were angry at her. Why had she had not told them about the wild night she had had with me and Tommy and the Russian dancers?
Mom was just waking up and was caught a little off guard. She kept denying that anything like that had happened.
My sister and niece thought she was lying and was denying it to protect me so that they wouldn’t get mad at me for corrupting her and/or putting her at risk with a bunch of drunken, dancing, plate-breaking visitors.
My mother gave me a stern lecture that if I make up a wild story I should always end it with the words: I just made that all up.?
I guess I took for granted that my family knew I had a wild imagination.
My niece later got on the phone and cracked up because there were so many details in the story that rang true. Cassie has a set of dishes she has stored in my mothers garage. Recently they had the discussion that my niece had bought a new set of dishes and that mom would take the old set to the Salvation Army.
Who knew?
Also, it seemed so much like my mother to use something like broken plates to make mosaic stepping stones.
I guess my mother is right. You do have to end a wild yarn with the words: “I just made all that up.”
