CrazeMonke6 presents...
GREETINGS
“There,” Sam breathed as he put one of his paintings on the wall, “this is the only painting that will ever be here,” Sam thought as the door started to open.
“Good morning and welcome to the Museum of Modern Art. Today our feature collection is on….. Skeletons!!!! Sort of like me.,” Sam greeted the visitor enthusiastically.
“Thank you,” the man said. He was wearing a neon orange top with hot pink leopard pants. Wearing those tight pants made him look even burlier then he already was.
“Oh,” breathed someone (probably the man that had just walked in).
“Is something the matter?” Sam said rushing into the hallway.
“Oh nothing, it’s just this painting, it is amazing,” the man said pointing his pudgy finger at the painting Sam had just put on the wall. “Say, do you know who did this masterpiece?” the man asked.
“Yes, his name is Sam, Sam Retchok.” Sam told the man.
******
Another staff or rod was being put into the same box with all the other bones and artifacts. This one was different from the rest though, it was an old healer’s staff. These staffs were used to make things come together, like people, broken woven baskets, and even bones. The bones would realign to the place that they should be. Sam somehow remembered everything. He after all was a skeleton. Then all of a sudden the staff began to shake, and all the bones came together to make a human skeleton. The bones were from all different ages though, so some were more worn out than others. The skull was from an old painter who was not well known, named Retchok. Because that was whose skull that was, the skeleton remembered the things from Retchok’s life. The bones were joined without muscle, it could breathe without lungs, and it could talk without a voice box. The collection of bones got out of the box and walked off, but not before seeing someone’s name tag that read: Sam Kotcher Museum of Natural History.
“How can I help you?” As the man walked on, he did not even notice the skeleton walking towards the front desk.
“What the!?”The woman at the front desk stammered. “Can I help you?” she finally asked.
“I am looking for an ahh museum with paint?” the skeleton asked.
“Sure right around the corner” the woman replied shakily.
“Thank you.”
“May I ask you something?” the woman asked as he was headed out the door.
“I guess,” now it was the skeleton’s turn to respond shakily.
“Who are you?”
“Sam, Sam Retchok”
“Oh.”
So Sam Retchok went around the corner and found the Museum of Modern Art. Inside there was a sign for help to work at the place. Sam stepped inside and was greeted by a burly man with his name tag reading; Dr. History; manager of greetings.
“Would you like to work here lad?” the man asked after he got over a state of shock after first seeing Sam.
“Sure, I guess,” Sam found himself saying.
“Wonderful!” Dr. History exclaimed.
******
“Are you even listening to me?!” Dr. History screamed at Sam.
“What?” Sam asked confused as he came back to his senses.
“I said you will be FIRED if you put another one of these paintings from storage on the wall and
ignore me about it!!” Dr. History bellowed at Sam.
“Sorry sir,” Sam whispered cowering against the wall chipping his head on a picture frame. The picture was of wilting flowers in a vase, with one leaf falling into the corner of the picture. It almost looked like it would fall on Sam’s head right on his light blue uniform hat. Sam was not yet in the navy blue uniform- he was after all only a greeter.
Sam was a normal sized skeleton, roughly 5’3”. His nose had some little nicks in them from the rats. But only Tad had asked for a nibble. Tad was the smallest of Sam’s rat friends or friats as Sam liked to call them. Most of Sam’s friats slept in his ribcage; you could tell because you could hear his ribs cracking in the night.
“I would not have hired you back in ‘08 if I knew you were going to bring friends,” Dr. History had said earlier in the week on Monday.
“Ugh, what am I going to do? I mean he said he would FIRE me!!” Sam asked his friats Tad, Chad, Clad, and Beruk. But, as usual Clad and Chad did not answer, they never did.
“Ohh and by the way,” Dr. History interrupted appearing almost instantly, pooping in the usual way, “you know who is coming tomorrow and you know what that means: clean paintings and no rats.”
“But,” Sam started.
“But nothing. Authenticator Glinda Maar hates dirty paintings and rats and you know it. Get cleaning.” And as quick as he had appeared, he was gone.
The same man with the neon orange shirt and hot pink pants came back getting ready to leave.
“I hope that you had a good time here at the M.O.M.A.,” Sam said.
“I did thank you, my name is Arthur P. Schnic. I am an artist and you have given me inspiration for a new piece. Here is my card; do you see the address on it? Go there tomorrow and tell the woman at the desk I sent you, and she will tell you where to go. “
“Ok,” and with that Arthur P. Schnic was gone.
“Wow, he was strange, did you even see his clothes? Weirdo!”
“Now be nice Beruk, he was nice-in an odd sort of way.”
“Whatever,” Beruk retorted.
“Don’t you ever go home?” Dr. History said coming out of nowhere again. “It is closing time.”
“Nah, I stay here”.
Later when Sam got into his pajamas, he tried to sleep, but when he tried to he was overcome with restlessness for the coming day. Instead of sleeping, Sam lied down and thought. He was thinking about what Dr. History had said in his light blue uniform that was too big and made him look like skin and bones.
“He may be small, but he has a big bad temper,” Sam thought and chuckled to himself as he heard Chad and Clad talking amongst themselves as usual.
“Do you really think he will get fired?”
“I don’t know. He will need to clean a lot of things for tomorrow with Glinda coming.”
“Yeah, Glinda’s tough.”
“Not to mention mean.”
Sam tuned them out; he didn’t want to hear anymore. They did not want to talk to him anyway. Chad and Clad hardly ever talked to anyone. They thought that because they were both albino rat twins. They did not need any one else.
“They are right though,” Sam thought quietly to himself. That means I should clean. Sam looked at the clock-1:59. “Oh, my gosh, I have 3 hours to clean.”
“Technically, 3 hours and one minute.” Tad said in his small, high-pitched voice. “You can use every minute that you’ve got, remember what happened last time when no one reminded you that the authenticator was coming?”
Instantly, Sam remembered the yelling, shouting, flaming red hair, red coat, red everything. Then more yelling, this time in light blue. The scurrying of small claws on hard wood floor. Sam shivered, remembering. And with that Sam was off cleaning, a sense of necessity in the air. The whole night through morning he was busy cleaning paintings, polishing carvings, and other rigorous activities. Sam looked at the clock, 7:50 am. Then Dr. History popped in. He went around inspecting the museum. He thought it looked amazing.
Now all they could do was wait. It seemed like ages of pacing, biting fingernails, and tapping feet. When the door finally opened right on the dot at 8:00, Sam ran to the door and greeted authenticator, Glinda Maar. As she went around the museum, everything was perfect and there was only one room left; the skeleton exhibit. As Glinda made her way across the room, she came upon Sam Retchok’s painting. She had never seen it before and thought it was a fake. She marked it on her clipboard.
“Tsk, tsk, one check. You are going to have to take this down” Glinda said pointing her finger. But because there was only one check, the museum got off clean and Glinda Maar left. As soon as she was out the door, Dr. History gave Sam a high five, but not before he lectured him for leaving the painting up.
“If you don’t mind, I have an appointment with an Arthur P. Schnic and need to leave,” and Sam walked out the door too.
2 months later…
“So you see, I don’t need this job,” Sam told Dr. History.
“But Sam, I can’t find a greeter as good as you,” Dr. History complained.
“Ever since Arthur put me in his painting, I can support myself and five other people. I am sorry, but I don’t need you.”
