Wilfred’s Valentine

Dear Kathy,

Winter here looks more like summer despite our two inches of snow last week.  How is your Governmental Statistics class?  I hope it’s going well.  If not, don’t let Dexter find out.  He’s dreading that class…especially since he has statistics appointments every day.  He’s pulled so much of his hair out that Spencer says he’s half bald.

Anyways, since you seemed so interested in hearing more about Wilfred, I figured you wouldn’t mind another story.

Ty and Ella were arguing about which was better for tutoring—half sheets or whole sheets of paper—when Wilfred came in and announced it was Vitamin C Day.  He was dressed in orange from head to toe—except for his brown jacket, of course.  Given the fact that he’s…Wilfred, this would not be strange, were it not for the fact it was February 14.

“Is this your version of Singles’ Awareness Day?” said Ella, scrounging out the few whole sheets of paper left unscathed by Ty’s exuberant paper-slashing.

(Yes, Ella can see Wilfred too.  Never had any trouble like the guys had.  This at least convinced Spencer I wasn’t completely bonkers.  I will write about it sometime if I can make it more interesting than “Ella walked into work on Wilfred’s second day of work and could see him fine.”)

Anyways, back to Valentine’s Day in the tutoring center.  Wilfred looked shrewdly at us and said, “No, because Singles’ Awareness Day is sad.”

He deposited his bag on the desk and plopped onto the filing cabinet.  “Vitamin C Day is more than an anti-Valentine’s Day advocated by lonely singles.  It’s a celebration of one of the most vital sources of our daily life.  Where would we be without Vitamin C?  And after all, it’s one of the most popular days to celebrate fruit, besides Banana Day.  When else can I walk up to someone and say, ‘Have you hugged a cumquat lately’?”

I shook my head.  “I hope you haven’t said that to anyone today.”

Ella frowned.  “What’s a cumquat?”

Wilfred shook his head.  “I see that you two don’t believe me.  Don’t you understand the pure awesomeness that is Vitamin C?  It fuels our immune systems and keeps us from getting scurvy like British sailors of the 1700s.  We’ll start a national campaign and call it “ascorbic acid.”  Children everywhere will now be interested in eating their fruit because “ascorbic acid” sounds far more impressive than Vitamin C.  Someday it will fuel our cars and break our dependency on foreign oil.  No drilling offshore.  No BP oil spill.  We’ll have Vitamin-C powered airplanes!  All we’ll need is oranges and lots of them.  Who cares about insipid holidays like Valentine’s Day?  How can commercialization and candy compare with changing the world?”

His bag chose that moment to follow over with a loud crash.  Three Raymond Chandler novels, two fountain pens, and a red card fell out.  Before he could clean it up, Ella picked up the card.  “What’s this?” she said curious.

“Nothing,” he said, snatching the red card out of her hand.

“It looked like a poem,” I commented, moving closer, “and I think I see who it’s addressed to…Violet Parr?  Wilfred, do you have a Valentine?”

Wilfred turned as orange as his shirt.  “It’s not a valentine.  It’s a…fan letter.”

“I’ve never heard of Violet Parr,” Ella shrugged.

“You’ve never seen The Incredibles?” Wilfred asked, astonished.

“You’re sending a fan letter to Violet Parr,” I said slowly.  “Don’t you realize…”

“That she’s invisible too,” he said defensively, “yes, of course, I do.  I was fourteen when I saw that movie.  She’s got to be at least 21 by now.  She’ll appreciate a fan letter.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I have tutoring to do.”

Wilfred slid off the filing cabinet and sulked over to the corner.

“The question is,” Ella said, grinning, “is it love or is it Vitamin C?”

Hope you have a fruit-filled February, Kathy.

 

Your Friend,
Marbles

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