Two Heads are Better Than One

Two Heads are Better Than One

       by Douglas the Rhymer

                        the left hand said to the right one

                        how does the time go by

                        the right refused to answer

                        and here's the reason why

                        whenever the left is speaking

                        she says whatever she feels

                        but not what's true or wise perforce

                        and the right loves wisdom most

                        he's taught himself restraint with pains

                        he's taught himself to wait

                        to never say a thing at once

                        when emotion's at the gate

                        so when the left says even one word

                        the right turns full away

                        in his reason and his heart

                        and thinks it's best that way

       "Right, then," said Jock MacLean to his new date, Evelyn Cherish, for the third time, "yer don't want to gae in tae back saet?" He had already primed her thrice with drinks from his glove box and so she'd consumed the lion's share of the whiskey in the flask that was by now, in fact, empty.

       "Nae, Jock, ae dae nat wish tae gae in tae back saet." She sulked and looked at him as if suspicious.

       "Well, why tae hell nat, then?" Jock said finally in resignation, giving her a mildly malevolent smile that he attempted to make nice and friendly. So much depended on charm and wit. Evelyn said nothing but looked fixedly out the windshield.

       "Tell mae, why nat?" Jock said, affecting more tenderness.

       "Because," she said after a pause while she fought back tears, "because I'd raither stae in tae front saet with thee!"

       Jock threw back his head and laughed till they both felt merry once more. He reached over and took her hand, then her elbow, and then more generally in the front seat of their Humbert, narrow as it was in contrast to the decidedly ample one of Evelyn's. Ah, this was more like it. Now he did not mind having spent a few extra pounds on decent scotch. Flowers fade, fall arrives and leaves, and winter slips by noticed but ignored. Evelyn, however, would be remembered and held in the arms of thought till Jock himself thought no more. Ah, swaet Evelyn. What a hero he'd been, he thought to himself. What's a heroine to do, thought Evelyn and laughed thinking how stupid she sometimes was.

       "Let's play hero and heroine," she said out loud. He mumbled something from under her skirts and pulled his head out from under.

       "Okay," he said, and ducked back out of sight. She hummed a little tune and then sang.

       Naen bells and all aes well.

       Taen bells and all aes good.

       Oecht bells and naen gaes wraeng.

       Two balls and gae tae haell.

She sang and watched her skirts rise and fall as if the wind had somehow got inside the Humbert.

       "Aef only thou haed twa haeds, Jock," she said and had to say it again, louder, because from where he was all sounded muffled and distant. "Twa haeds, twa tongues, twa joys all aet once," she entoned and roared with laughter so that the seat shook and Jock once more surfaced to enquire concerning the shifting and shaking he had discerned from his grotto.