Blue Tie Number 5

Short Fiction

Life begin in factory. Nice place, cold, not a lot of sun. Is nice in factory. I surround by other tie. We go to tie school to learn knot. Is secret school only for tie, but I tell you because I am nice tie. We learn half-windsor and full-windsor, we learn four-in-hand and pratt. We learn all knot. Some tie aren’t so good at knot. We laugh at them. Stupid tie, we say. Can’t you knot?

Day come when we know all knot. Teacher, who is old faded tie, say now you know knot. So we are fold into box and whoosh to truck and vroom to store. Here we are free from box. Some tie become best friend with mannequin, get good spot in window. Other tie lay folded on shelf. I am one of folded. I am top tie, known among all tie in store for my good knot. One day woman come, she say, This tie, and this tie, and this tie. I am one of this tie. I am so excite.

I go home with woman. Wow! So many tie. I meet fancy tie name Ermenegildo. He is leader of all tie and think he the best. I challenge him to knot contest. I do my secret school knots and he quickly back off. Now I am leader of ties. Is important position. It mean I am worn most often. Oh I love worn. Feel of collar, dress shirt. Oh yes! To be worn is to be love.

But man who wear tie, he think he tie us. This is a no. It is tie who ties tie. No other. We laugh in closet about man who think he ties tie. He so clumsy, he could never tie tie. We share story. Remember time, say Barba, when man spill ketchup on me? We all remember. Barba taken to Dry Clean, which is very wonderful place. Tie go and come back clean and shiny. So this is life, I explain to Tie in nightly chat, when we all together on tie rack. We are pick up and worn, I say, and get dirty and we are sent to Dry Clean and come back shiny clean. But secretly I worry. I never been sent to Dry Clean. What if it is not as they say? What if Tie leave and new tie come back who look just the same as old tie, but is not old tie? But I say nothing to other tie.

Today is rest day from work. Most day, is true, are rest day for tie. Is good life. Lot of free time. But today, something happen. I am taken out by woman and placed on dresser. This not right, I say. I am vacation. But I also like worn and so I say, OK. But instead of worn, woman leave me and return with skinny wood legs. I am horror. What is purpose of skinny wood legs? Why is she put white rectangle on it? Why is she brush color onto it? Why is she stare at me and then it? This is not purpose of tie.

When she finish she turn white rectangle so I can see. I see myself. How did I get over there if I am here? I know trick of mirror, all tie know trick. But this is not mirror. This is something more. It is call paint, say a dress shirt on a rack. It mean she like you, explain dress shirt. I like woman, I say. She paint me, she make me look amazing. Dress shirt agree.

Woman forget to put me back and I lay on dresser. Child come in room and look down at me. I do not care for child. Child is like woman. It does not wear tie. But child pick me up and run around with me like I am string. I knot to show child my skill. Child look at knot and pause and throw me over shoulder and say, Look what I can do. And it tie bunny ear on shoe laces. I am not impressed by bunny ear. I show off my best knot: Windsor knot. But child isn’t looking. Child run outside with me. Child trip and fall in grass. I get dirty. I am dirty for first time in life. But I know what to do. I knot myself so child can see my tag. Dry Clean Only, I say to child. But child does not read. It look down at me like I am string. It take me down stairs to large white machines. Nearby is large hamper. I have seen hamper. It is where sock and underwear and t-shirt go. But I am tie. I do not go there. I am Dry Clean Only. Does child not understand? I am thrown with underwear and sock and t-shirt. I am stuff inside them. Then I tumble into wet darkness.

I wake soggy and afraid. Woman is hold me up to the sunlight. How did you get in here? she says. You were Larry’s favorite tie. Were, I am think. What you mean by were? She shouts a name and child come running and she ask him if he has anything to do with this. Child lie and shake head. Liar! I want to shout but I am tie and can only knot.

What do we do with you? she says to me after the child has gone. She has idea. She has been thinking of making a painting of Larry’s old clothing, she says. She lays me out in sun and after I am dry she put me in box with other old clothes. I meet Armani Suit Jacket, who complain of Larry growing fat. Also there is Armani Pants who say he once was friend with legs of Larry but then man belly decide to grow big. Is this place for clothe who no longer fit? But I am tie. I am made to fit. I say I do not belong here.

She place me on bed with Armani Suit Jacket and Armani Pants. Also there are torn Calvin Klein Boxer Briefs and Black Dress Socks with holes. Together we are what woman call a collection. We stare up at her in dismay. What is collection? we all wonder. Then she bring in white rectangle, and I am so excite. I love white rectangle. I can not wait to see what she paint. When she turn white rectangle around I no understand. Where is me? I ask Armani Pants, who is good friend. He say you are there. But I still do not understand. Only tie in white rectangle is wrinkled and no straight and there is no shine.

I demand woman to bring me back to tie rack. I want to see buddies, I knot. But instead she is throw me back into box. Just before she throw me I see another tie on dresser. It look just like me.

So.

Later is hard to remember. I am whoosh and vroom. Then light and I am in new place, store, I think. Lot of old clothes here. I wait in tie box with many tie. They are all bad knot, these tie. So every day I teach them knot. They are get pretty good. One day man come and take tie. Then more men, more tie. Some day women take tie. Tie come and tie go. I teach all I know. I practice my knot. I wait to be knot on shirt again.