Choo’n Gum
Of Course He Spilled The Beans.
They had tied him to a pole in the damp basement. Smell the mildew.
Not a muscle could he move.
The loudspeakers were, well, very loud — and the music blasting was Theresa Brewer singing “Choo’n Gum”.
The first dozen times it was quite manageable, but this was the 38th repetition (he’d started counting) in the loop recording.
This was almost two hours of . . .
“My mom gave me a nickel/ to buy a pickle/ But I didn’t buy a pickle/ I bought some choo’n gum”.
Hours divided by minutes. Minutes times duration. 114 minutes times a three-minute song. Equals 6840 seconds of “Choo’n Gum”.
Approximately of course, he thought—especially since the adjustment on the recording seemed pitched a bit fast, so going a full play-through in less than three minutes.
He was working these complexities of math-in-his-head to try to transport himself to somewhere else. And for a few seconds he was running across a green hill, amidst the Austrian mountain Alps, singing.
Maintaining his sanity.
He has certainly passed—swerving across the solid single yellow a few times—that point at which one would begin screaming. But they had him gagged also.
And did I mention the blindfold? It is quite tightly tied so no amount of nose wiggles will change that.
(He knew…
