Rocky ‘Raccoon’ Rosen

Rocky ‘Raccoon’ Rosen coming into land at North Topsail Beach

“Did you have a bumpy flight down from Brooklyn?” asked Sybil of her gym loving hunk, thinking back to the Buddhist family who flew in from the same general direction and had a terrible journey.

“No,” replied Rocky in his deep voice which sent Sybil into a tizzy. “We fly at higher altitudes. We can go above bad weather, to where the jet stream is not as unpredictable as it is at lower altitudes.”

‘Yes of course. How silly of me,’ thought Sybil watching the group who had come with Rocky to enjoy the leftovers, which they most certainly did, much to the alarm of the seagulls who kept their distance.

“Oh, how silly of me!” laughed the muscular vulture wiping his mouth with some seaweed. “My manners seemed to have failed me.” No, I don’t think so thought Sybil unable to think of anything he could do to upset her. Rocky turned and called out to a very pretty blonde vulture someway behind him surrounded by a multitude of what Sybil thought were younger vultures, probably brothers and sisters. “Honey!” said Rocky loudly looking at the blonde vulture. Ok, well, there was one thing that Rocky could do to upset Sybil and he had found it.

The pretty vulture walked over sedately and stood next Rocky ‘Raccoon’ Rosen. “This is my wife,” he said sounding very pleased. Ok, that’s two things that Rocky could do to upset Sybil and he found them both.

“Nice to meet you,” said Sybil before she even knew her name. She didn’t want to know her name.

“Genevieve,” continued Rocky unperturbed by Sybil’s behaviour which he had been exposed to when he dropped off the knishes a couple of days ago.

“Hello Sybil,” replied Genevieve “how nice to meet you. Rocky told me all about you when he came home.” Ok, so Rocky had one bad point deducted. Sybil smiled not knowing whether she really wanted to know what it was he had said.

“And who are all these behind you, brothers and sisters?” Sybil asked but then quickly regretted her rash decision.

The two vultures laughed, “oh no, they are our children!”

“All of them?” She couldn’t help herself. The words came out before she had a chance to shut her beak.

“Yes,” laughed Genevieve, “all eleven of them.”

Sybil coughed. She wasn’t sure how to react. “Eleven?” she asked rather loudly. Loudly enough for George who was in the house with their three children watching a Barbie movie to get up from the feather couch and look out of the window.

George smiled. He knew things weren’t going well for his wife. “I think your mother needs us,” said George.

“Can’t it wait until the end of the movie?” asked Rosa.

“You stay here. I’ll go outside,” George knew his wife needed him.

In the meantime, Sybil was digging herself a deeper hole. “Oh, I see,” she directed her question to Genevieve, “and what are their names?”

Genevieve was amused. “Well as luck would have it, we couldn’t agree on names. Rocky wanted to name them after each Israeli tribe and decide upon which one we would leave out, but we couldn’t agree on what tribe should not be represented.”

Sounds logical Sybil thought, “and so what did you agree on?”

“Nothing really. So, until we come to a decision which is no time soon, they are numbered from 1 to 11.” Sybil was about to say something stupid like, ‘why don’t you have another,’ but this time was wise enough not to.

“Hello,” it was George who had come out just in time to rescue his sinking wife. “I’m George,” he said extending his wing. Both Genevieve and Rocky shook it.

“Where are your children I think you said you have some.”

“Yes,” continued George because Sybil was still trying to resurrect her fantasy but was having a great deal of difficulty. “Yes, we have three. They are in the living room watching a movie.”

“Oh, which one?” asked Genevieve.

“Barbie,” replied Sybil unable to understand why she did.

“Look kids,” Rocky turned to address his numbered children, “the Barbie movie is on.”

Without another word there was suddenly a rush of air and the sunshine was obliterated by a large amount of grey feathers, soon just the four adults were standing by themselves. They all laughed. Oh well thought Sybil maybe next time a single vulture will come by.

“Honey,” George had something to do. “Moshe is coming by because we are going down to the synagogue at three and as its nearly that time now, so he will be here soon.” He then thought for a second. “Would you like to come with me?” And then added proudly, “I’m the Rabbi of the synagogue and Moshe wants to talk to me about combining services as they are having a problem finding a rabbi.”

“No, that’s ok,” replied Rocky stepping back a little. “We don’t go to synagogue.”

“Oh, I see, but you’re Jewish aren’t you?”

“Yes and no,” replied Genevieve who obviously who wore the pants in the Rosen household. “Well,” she continued taking a deep breath, “we are Jewish, but we are Messianic Jews.”

“We are Jews for Jesus,” added Rocky proudly.

“Oh,” replied Sybil, now completely falling out of love with the entire family. “You mean like the ones that hang around Yankee Stadium pushing their pamphlets and annoying everyone?” Genevieve felt slightly offended. “Actually no, we do our good work at the Met’s Stadium. We don’t have much competition from people like the Hare Krishna lot because you know, it’s the Mets, not many people go there.”

Both Sybil and George were floored. Sybil suddenly panicked. She realised her children were in the same room with, in her mind, heretics. Who knows, they might be trying to convert them. Both Genevieve and Rocky who from experience understood George and Sybil’s concern, laughed and said, “oh don’t worry. The children are too young, we haven’t talked to them about Jesus yet.” George and Sybil visibly relaxed.

“We need to leave soon anyway,” Rocky had the feeling that they had overstayed their welcome.

“But the baseball season is over and there are still some fish tacos left,” Sybil felt she needed to make amends.

“Fish tacos!” both vultures said together, “where are they?”

“Actually, in the fridge, because Elizabeth wanted them for her dinner.”

“Oh, in that case we can’t have those. Who’s Elizabeth?”

“A lawyer relative,” replied George and then added for effect, “the worst kind,” which brought laughter from everyone.

“Well,” Sybil wanted to get rid of most of the fish tacos. “There’s plenty if you would like to have some.”

“Sure, we would love to.”

At that precise moment in history, Rosa the Drama Queen came outside and walked up to her father, who was now much more relaxed than he had been earlier. “Who’s Jesus?” she asked. The earth came to a standstill. The sun ran for cover and the seagulls rubbed their wings in glee. Moshe, who had just driven up in his dilapidated taxi, jumped back in and shut the door. Sybil collapsed on the sand and George glared at his new and now prior friends.

“Let’s go kids!” shouted Genevieve and children 1 through 11 came walking out with their heads hung low. They knew what they had done and knew that the flight back to Brooklyn would be fraught with danger.