There was a little shop on Second Avenue that sold nothing but nuts.
It was called NUTS. Things were simple back then. My mother
would buy me nuts. I would point to them and ask “Why are they red?”
My mother would say “Because.” That was also why the sun was yellow.
Why daisies were called daisies. Why the ‘P’ is often silent. And why
that man murdered all those girls and then went on THE DATING GAME.
When I asked her why peanuts had shells, she gave a very complicated answer.
It was scientific and strange. I knew I was growing up. Soon I would be thinking
about girls. I asked what NUTS meant. She told me about serial killers. She told
me about dating. She told me about THE DATING GAME. I said, no, that can’t be.
Yes it can. Why? Because. Nuts, she said. Nuts. Just Nuts.
Ricky Garni is a graphic designer, cheesecake maker, and owner of an Italian bicycle named Love #3. His recent publications include ARTOCRATIC, RED RIVER REVIEW, and KITCHEN and his most recent book is DOTS. He lives in Carrboro, North Carolina, next door to the fire station.