Prodigal Returned...

Prodigal Patrick has come back to George and to us, thank goodness, unharmed and unkidnapped. Not quite liturgically correct to ring a peal in celebration, though a discernibly relieved mood in all the village. A pining pub landlord is a lowering bellwether for everyone: sour beer and bad spirits.

Not yet spoken to the man himself, but word reaches me that Patrick's sudden absence, complete with microwave, was his way of telling Geo. that he felt perpetually insulted as cook-in-charge - positively bursting with skills, enthusiasm and drive - by the presence of this machine, gifted of course by Geo. to him, which in his view has destroyed more souls and Dover soles than any kitchen device invented since first man thrust raw meat into naked flame. (Rather share this view myself having once had to sit down to a bag of sodden pulp masquerading as a chicken that had been so electronically 'cooked'.)

Poor Geo. had been, as is his way, utterly oblivious to Patrick's pain, having decided that he [Geo.] was being terribly helpful by installing what he [Geo. again] regarded merely as a labour saving item, not for a moment comprehending that to him [Patrick this time] a microwave is not far short of a symbolic representation of the Devil's bottom!

Typical of the pair of them that they had never once sat down to discuss their mutually opposed views on the subject, it having to come to the pretty pass of Patrick kidnapping the microwave - and not as others had had it being the subject of a kidnap himself.

Further, in a later fit of Catholic scupulosity that would do a Jesuit proud he [Patrick] had felt compelled to return the microwave as it was Geo.'s property, but not the special plug with in-built failsafe, which he [Patrick once more] had bought and fitted. (A note of 'rendering unto Caesar's salad that which is Caesar's' is floating through my head, but I can't quite pin it down.)

Patrick it seems had hoped that first his bunk with the machine and then the silent return of it damaged beyond use would, both or either, be sufficient to bring Geo. to his senses in this matter. Patrick the meanwhile having taken temporary refuge with Bill the Boatman on his barge - where of course he had been spotted by E, who was out by the river communing with her inner punk as it the wont of teenagers throughout the land. (And hence of course her knowing grimace at yesterday's luncheon!)

It was E in fact - and bless her for that - who had eventually spoken to Patrick to let him know that his stunt had not worked quite the way intended (as is oft the way with stunts of course!) and that his darling Geo. was a broken man beyond human care or divine restoration. Patrick repenting of his prodigal ways had promptly legged it back to Geo. and after many tears of both lamentation and of joy domestic peace has been recovered, the beer is safe for a spell at least and the microwave has been consigned to thankful oblivion.

It was the somewhat sadistic prison warden in the wonderful film 'Cool Hand Luke' who had said to the eponymous hero, prior to administering some horrid punishment for Luke's refusal to submit to the warden's will: "What we have here is a failure to communicate." And here too it seems.