Post by strangeguy on May 7, 2010 2:57:35 GMT -5
Roommate Wanted: that had been the headline of Joe’s ad in the Sunday newspaper. He’d been looking for someone to split the rent with. Aside from financial concerns, the apartment had seemed just a bit…empty. His only companion for conversation thus far had been his solitary houseplant, nicknamed “Chuck.” It was funny how isolation caused one to personify inanimate objects. Chuck’s status as the only “living” thing in the apartment (besides Joe himself, of course) had made it Joe’s confidante and sounding board. The one that was always there after a bad day at work. The one that had participated (in its silent way) in many spirited discussions about the current baseball season. It never judged him or argued with him.
Which was why he had to get someone else.
Absence of conflict, while sounding like absolute bliss, turned out to be downright boring when one got there. It left no option other than experiencing conflict vicariously through the TV and wearing one’s underwear inside out just for the excitement of doing something different.
So he’d posted the ad, deciding to start a new chapter in his life, turn over a new leaf, and spout many other irritating clichés.
When the phone rang on Monday evening, it had to be someone calling about the apartment. Who else would be calling?
He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the voice that greeted him on the other line. It sounded very raspy, either like someone with laryngitis or someone trying to disguise their voice. Not being a big conspiracy theorist, he settled on the former.
“Hello, good sir. I understand you have a residence available?”
“Yes, it’s certainly good for…residing.”
“Excellent. What is the location of your residing-place?”
The voice was very quiet, as if it were far away from the phone’s speaker. Joe chalked it up to laryngitis and gave the address.
“Why, how splendid. We’ll be right over!”
“We…?” Joe thought to ask.
He heard childish giggles in the background and then a resounding click of the phone hanging up.
On second thought, maybe this call was from a practical joker with nothing better to do. In fact, the voice did sound a little bit faked now that he thought more about it. It was funny how clarity of mind came only after the fact.
Oh well. If they showed up, then by golly, he’d show them around the place and make them his new best friend. If not, he could always have another staring contest with Chuck to pass the time.
He sat on the couch for awhile, waiting for his caller to arrive. It occurred to him that maybe he should tidy up the place a bit or change into something more presentable. Ah…forget it all, anyway. If a roommate was interested, they might as well see what daily life was really like in this apartment.
He had halfway started to doze off when the sharp knock at the door came. His muscles were shocked out of their permanently atrophied state and sprang to answer the door.
When he opened it, however, there was only a small leather bag lying on the hallway floor. It had a note attached to it. Disappointed, he scooped up the bag and brought it inside, wondering when he had sent out for anything.
His senses instantly came alert, though, when he handled the bag and heard the distinctive sound of coins jingling inside. His senses were even further aroused when he poured the contents of the bag into his hand and out came several shiny gold coins.
A small, high-pitched noise escaped his mouth as he stared at the coins through widened eyes and tried to calculate how much they would be worth.
Completely flabbergasted, he had almost forgotten about the note attached to the bag. Maybe that would provide some explanation.
He almost needed a magnifying glass in order to read the very tiny penmanship and, after squinting at it for a while, finally deciphered it: Here is the first payment for the use of your lodging space, oh generous lodging-mate. More to come in future months.
Was he being made fun of? But who cared if he was! It was solid gold in his hand! It seemed strange that his new roommate had not even wanted to see the place before moving in. Nor had Joe been asked for permission to move in. Another look at the shiny baubles in his hand, though, and Joe wasn’t complaining. Anyone who gave him this for a down payment could stay in the apartment as long as they liked!
After gawking for a little while longer, his gawker finally tired out and he closed the front door, retreating to his bedroom. The closet made a nice place to stash his treasure trove for safekeeping, and he soon went to get the phonebook so he could find a local pawn shop and get an estimate on the value of his coins.
He couldn’t help passing by his front door, though, and noticing that it was standing wide open. He had closed it, hadn’t he? Oh well. Maybe that doorknob needed to be replaced. He closed the door and entertained a passing thought about why his new roommate had left payment, but hadn’t bothered to mention when they’d be moving in. But they could certainly take their time, if they chose.
After giving Chuck a goodnight kiss, he retired to bed and slept soundly, dreaming of his newfound riches.
* * *
Dawn came, as it tends to do after nightfall, and Joe was up early, whistling merrily on his way to the kitchen for breakfast. His first surprise of the day came when he was about to make toast. A hunt in the refrigerator revealed footprints in the butter. Tiny ones.
He almost dropped the butter dish on the floor. Oh, great. Rat infestation! Not only that, but extremely skilled circus rats that were able to get inside a refrigerator! On closer inspection, though, he was even more confused. Those looked like human footprints! The prints showed toes without any claws. That ruled out rats, unless declawing them was a common practice now.
No, they were definitely human feet, but on a much smaller scale.
Staring openmouthed at the butter soon turned to staring openmouthed at the inside of the fridge. Several containers were knocked over; others had been opened and never shut. Someone had definitely been in here.
The footprints in the butter must have been some kind of sick joke…maybe someone had used a stamp with the shape of a human foot on it.
“This is ridiculous!” he muttered.
“Why? Have you never seen butter before?” a high voice right next to his ear said.
Joe screamed loud enough to register at least a 2.1 on the Richter scale. Whirling around, he scanned the room in a panic.
“Who’s there?” he yelled. Finally, his eyes focused on a small object hovering near him.
It took his mind a moment to process this. The object was actually a woman standing very far away. So far away that she looked tiny. Except for the fact that she was only a foot in front of his face, which would lead to the conclusion that if she still looked tiny, despite the close distance, then…
Maybe she was the trainer of the circus rats!
She smirked at him, “Hello, wonderful generous lodging-mate!”
To his credit, Joe did not stammer. Stammering would have been too eloquent a word for the vocalizations that escaped his mouth.
“Ah, you are a newcomer to the language of the humans, I see,” she gave him a look almost approaching sympathy…although it was hard to read facial expressions on a face no bigger than a grape.
She had tiny wings. That explained the hovering. They were nearly invisible, except when they caught the light in a certain way, which they did often through their constant fluttering. She wore a simple, form-hugging red dress that didn’t look like it kept the cold out very well. Her bare feet matched the prints he had seen in the butter, and she was pretty in a cute, impish sort of way, with long brown hair cascading around her shoulders. But most importantly, she was hovering in front of him and she was only two inches tall!
Joe realized he had stopped hyperventilating for a second. Then the enormity of the situation hit him again, all at once, and the hyperventilation began again with renewed intensity. He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again. She was still there. He shut them again, a bit longer this time, and started massaging his eyelids. Then another glance in front of him. She was still there.
He finally regained his ability to speak, "You're, uh......pretty small, aren't you?"
She blushed and giggled a little, "Oh, you are just saying that. Everyone knows that my hips have recently gone from a size negative twenty-three to size negative twenty-two!" She looked down at herself critically.
She wasn't the only one looking down. "Did...did you say something about a lodging mate?"
The critical look was now being turned on him. It seemed that the implied message was, How dumb can you possibly get?
"Right," he cleared his throat, "so I guess...you're the one who answered my ad. You left that sack of gold?"
"Well, I had help. It is greatly hard to lift that giant bag by oneself!"
"Where did you get it?"
The critical look returned. "Why, it is fairy gold of course!" She seemed to consider this an adequate explanation. In response to his blank stare, she ventured, "Much of it made by our good friends the leprechauns. Them with their pots of it..."
"So that's what you are? A fairy? This is so ridiculously--what do you mean you had help?"
She seemed to roll her eyes without actually doing so. Quite an impressive skill. Beckoning him forward with one tiny finger, she flew over to the cabinet above the stove and made a grand gesture toward it like a miniature Vanna White.
Cautiously, he opened it and was greeted by a chorus of high-pitched screams. The cabinet was overrun with a large group of about fifteen or twenty fairies in various stages of waking up. They were all pale, delicate-looking females like the one he had already met, wearing brightly colored dresses of every hue. All of them stared at him in startlement. A few were hiding behind various cans and packages. None were more than two inches tall.
The fairies seemed to have made quite a home for themselves in there. A couple of them were lying on mattresses that looked suspiciously like teabags. One was in the middle of taking a shower under a salt shaker filled with water and held in the air by three friends. He couldn't help noticing that several of the items in the cabinet had been rearranged in a feng shui-like pattern.
After the fairies' maidenly gasps subsided, they seemed to relax. Joe couldn't see the look on his own face and was glad for it. He must look even more shocked than them.
"When...did you all get here?" he marveled.
"Just after we gave you the money, great dolt!" came a little voice from inside the cabinet. The rest of the fairies tittered like children who had just witnessed their schoolteacher sitting on a well-placed tack.
The fairy who had introduced herself earlier fluttered over and landed on the counter. "They were a goodly bit shy, mighty giant." He couldn't quite tell if she was teasing him or not. "A bit jumpy, they were, about being seen and meeting the gigantic one. And you had that faraway look in the eye that the people always get when they lay huge fingers on fairy gold. We did not want to disturb."
Suspicion started to creep over Joe, "Wait a second, this all seems just a bit too sneaky. Why all this hiding things from me? You don't have anything more to hide, do you?"
She put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot on the counter in mock annoyance. "I ought to fly into that spacious ear of yours and pull out those verily suspicious thoughts!"
Joe sighed, "Right. So do you have a name, at least?"
"And after all, we did rightly give the gold for that 'rent' thing..." she muttered as if she hadn't heard him. She had a point there, he had to say. And what a rent payment it was!
"My name is Keela," she finally mentioned.
"Kee-la?" he said, trying it out for size.
"That is what I said."
"I'm Joe..." he said, sticking out his hand, then withdrawing it when he realized the awkwardness that a handshake might present. Grabbing her entire body and shaking it up and down might be considered an overenthusiastic greeting.
"Well...nice to meet you." He still couldn't get over the weirdness of the situation. Neither was he entirely pleased, but for the kind of money these little fireflies were offering, he decided he would be willing to put up with almost anything! He certainly didn't want them taking their money elsewhere if he put up a fuss. And they didn't even take up much room! Just a cabinet that would henceforth serve as more of a cabin-et. Or would it be a cabinette?
Turning to the fridge, he began rummaging through it, trying to hide his irritation at its scattered contents. "I'm going to get some breakfast before heading off to work. Do you want anything?"
"Only your firstborn child and half of your harvest," Keela cooed sweetly.
He hoped she was joking.
Which was why he had to get someone else.
Absence of conflict, while sounding like absolute bliss, turned out to be downright boring when one got there. It left no option other than experiencing conflict vicariously through the TV and wearing one’s underwear inside out just for the excitement of doing something different.
So he’d posted the ad, deciding to start a new chapter in his life, turn over a new leaf, and spout many other irritating clichés.
When the phone rang on Monday evening, it had to be someone calling about the apartment. Who else would be calling?
He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the voice that greeted him on the other line. It sounded very raspy, either like someone with laryngitis or someone trying to disguise their voice. Not being a big conspiracy theorist, he settled on the former.
“Hello, good sir. I understand you have a residence available?”
“Yes, it’s certainly good for…residing.”
“Excellent. What is the location of your residing-place?”
The voice was very quiet, as if it were far away from the phone’s speaker. Joe chalked it up to laryngitis and gave the address.
“Why, how splendid. We’ll be right over!”
“We…?” Joe thought to ask.
He heard childish giggles in the background and then a resounding click of the phone hanging up.
On second thought, maybe this call was from a practical joker with nothing better to do. In fact, the voice did sound a little bit faked now that he thought more about it. It was funny how clarity of mind came only after the fact.
Oh well. If they showed up, then by golly, he’d show them around the place and make them his new best friend. If not, he could always have another staring contest with Chuck to pass the time.
He sat on the couch for awhile, waiting for his caller to arrive. It occurred to him that maybe he should tidy up the place a bit or change into something more presentable. Ah…forget it all, anyway. If a roommate was interested, they might as well see what daily life was really like in this apartment.
He had halfway started to doze off when the sharp knock at the door came. His muscles were shocked out of their permanently atrophied state and sprang to answer the door.
When he opened it, however, there was only a small leather bag lying on the hallway floor. It had a note attached to it. Disappointed, he scooped up the bag and brought it inside, wondering when he had sent out for anything.
His senses instantly came alert, though, when he handled the bag and heard the distinctive sound of coins jingling inside. His senses were even further aroused when he poured the contents of the bag into his hand and out came several shiny gold coins.
A small, high-pitched noise escaped his mouth as he stared at the coins through widened eyes and tried to calculate how much they would be worth.
Completely flabbergasted, he had almost forgotten about the note attached to the bag. Maybe that would provide some explanation.
He almost needed a magnifying glass in order to read the very tiny penmanship and, after squinting at it for a while, finally deciphered it: Here is the first payment for the use of your lodging space, oh generous lodging-mate. More to come in future months.
Was he being made fun of? But who cared if he was! It was solid gold in his hand! It seemed strange that his new roommate had not even wanted to see the place before moving in. Nor had Joe been asked for permission to move in. Another look at the shiny baubles in his hand, though, and Joe wasn’t complaining. Anyone who gave him this for a down payment could stay in the apartment as long as they liked!
After gawking for a little while longer, his gawker finally tired out and he closed the front door, retreating to his bedroom. The closet made a nice place to stash his treasure trove for safekeeping, and he soon went to get the phonebook so he could find a local pawn shop and get an estimate on the value of his coins.
He couldn’t help passing by his front door, though, and noticing that it was standing wide open. He had closed it, hadn’t he? Oh well. Maybe that doorknob needed to be replaced. He closed the door and entertained a passing thought about why his new roommate had left payment, but hadn’t bothered to mention when they’d be moving in. But they could certainly take their time, if they chose.
After giving Chuck a goodnight kiss, he retired to bed and slept soundly, dreaming of his newfound riches.
* * *
Dawn came, as it tends to do after nightfall, and Joe was up early, whistling merrily on his way to the kitchen for breakfast. His first surprise of the day came when he was about to make toast. A hunt in the refrigerator revealed footprints in the butter. Tiny ones.
He almost dropped the butter dish on the floor. Oh, great. Rat infestation! Not only that, but extremely skilled circus rats that were able to get inside a refrigerator! On closer inspection, though, he was even more confused. Those looked like human footprints! The prints showed toes without any claws. That ruled out rats, unless declawing them was a common practice now.
No, they were definitely human feet, but on a much smaller scale.
Staring openmouthed at the butter soon turned to staring openmouthed at the inside of the fridge. Several containers were knocked over; others had been opened and never shut. Someone had definitely been in here.
The footprints in the butter must have been some kind of sick joke…maybe someone had used a stamp with the shape of a human foot on it.
“This is ridiculous!” he muttered.
“Why? Have you never seen butter before?” a high voice right next to his ear said.
Joe screamed loud enough to register at least a 2.1 on the Richter scale. Whirling around, he scanned the room in a panic.
“Who’s there?” he yelled. Finally, his eyes focused on a small object hovering near him.
It took his mind a moment to process this. The object was actually a woman standing very far away. So far away that she looked tiny. Except for the fact that she was only a foot in front of his face, which would lead to the conclusion that if she still looked tiny, despite the close distance, then…
Maybe she was the trainer of the circus rats!
She smirked at him, “Hello, wonderful generous lodging-mate!”
To his credit, Joe did not stammer. Stammering would have been too eloquent a word for the vocalizations that escaped his mouth.
“Ah, you are a newcomer to the language of the humans, I see,” she gave him a look almost approaching sympathy…although it was hard to read facial expressions on a face no bigger than a grape.
She had tiny wings. That explained the hovering. They were nearly invisible, except when they caught the light in a certain way, which they did often through their constant fluttering. She wore a simple, form-hugging red dress that didn’t look like it kept the cold out very well. Her bare feet matched the prints he had seen in the butter, and she was pretty in a cute, impish sort of way, with long brown hair cascading around her shoulders. But most importantly, she was hovering in front of him and she was only two inches tall!
Joe realized he had stopped hyperventilating for a second. Then the enormity of the situation hit him again, all at once, and the hyperventilation began again with renewed intensity. He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again. She was still there. He shut them again, a bit longer this time, and started massaging his eyelids. Then another glance in front of him. She was still there.
He finally regained his ability to speak, "You're, uh......pretty small, aren't you?"
She blushed and giggled a little, "Oh, you are just saying that. Everyone knows that my hips have recently gone from a size negative twenty-three to size negative twenty-two!" She looked down at herself critically.
She wasn't the only one looking down. "Did...did you say something about a lodging mate?"
The critical look was now being turned on him. It seemed that the implied message was, How dumb can you possibly get?
"Right," he cleared his throat, "so I guess...you're the one who answered my ad. You left that sack of gold?"
"Well, I had help. It is greatly hard to lift that giant bag by oneself!"
"Where did you get it?"
The critical look returned. "Why, it is fairy gold of course!" She seemed to consider this an adequate explanation. In response to his blank stare, she ventured, "Much of it made by our good friends the leprechauns. Them with their pots of it..."
"So that's what you are? A fairy? This is so ridiculously--what do you mean you had help?"
She seemed to roll her eyes without actually doing so. Quite an impressive skill. Beckoning him forward with one tiny finger, she flew over to the cabinet above the stove and made a grand gesture toward it like a miniature Vanna White.
Cautiously, he opened it and was greeted by a chorus of high-pitched screams. The cabinet was overrun with a large group of about fifteen or twenty fairies in various stages of waking up. They were all pale, delicate-looking females like the one he had already met, wearing brightly colored dresses of every hue. All of them stared at him in startlement. A few were hiding behind various cans and packages. None were more than two inches tall.
The fairies seemed to have made quite a home for themselves in there. A couple of them were lying on mattresses that looked suspiciously like teabags. One was in the middle of taking a shower under a salt shaker filled with water and held in the air by three friends. He couldn't help noticing that several of the items in the cabinet had been rearranged in a feng shui-like pattern.
After the fairies' maidenly gasps subsided, they seemed to relax. Joe couldn't see the look on his own face and was glad for it. He must look even more shocked than them.
"When...did you all get here?" he marveled.
"Just after we gave you the money, great dolt!" came a little voice from inside the cabinet. The rest of the fairies tittered like children who had just witnessed their schoolteacher sitting on a well-placed tack.
The fairy who had introduced herself earlier fluttered over and landed on the counter. "They were a goodly bit shy, mighty giant." He couldn't quite tell if she was teasing him or not. "A bit jumpy, they were, about being seen and meeting the gigantic one. And you had that faraway look in the eye that the people always get when they lay huge fingers on fairy gold. We did not want to disturb."
Suspicion started to creep over Joe, "Wait a second, this all seems just a bit too sneaky. Why all this hiding things from me? You don't have anything more to hide, do you?"
She put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot on the counter in mock annoyance. "I ought to fly into that spacious ear of yours and pull out those verily suspicious thoughts!"
Joe sighed, "Right. So do you have a name, at least?"
"And after all, we did rightly give the gold for that 'rent' thing..." she muttered as if she hadn't heard him. She had a point there, he had to say. And what a rent payment it was!
"My name is Keela," she finally mentioned.
"Kee-la?" he said, trying it out for size.
"That is what I said."
"I'm Joe..." he said, sticking out his hand, then withdrawing it when he realized the awkwardness that a handshake might present. Grabbing her entire body and shaking it up and down might be considered an overenthusiastic greeting.
"Well...nice to meet you." He still couldn't get over the weirdness of the situation. Neither was he entirely pleased, but for the kind of money these little fireflies were offering, he decided he would be willing to put up with almost anything! He certainly didn't want them taking their money elsewhere if he put up a fuss. And they didn't even take up much room! Just a cabinet that would henceforth serve as more of a cabin-et. Or would it be a cabinette?
Turning to the fridge, he began rummaging through it, trying to hide his irritation at its scattered contents. "I'm going to get some breakfast before heading off to work. Do you want anything?"
"Only your firstborn child and half of your harvest," Keela cooed sweetly.
He hoped she was joking.