Having a Ball!

by Misty Simon

“Get your nose out of the air; that is nothing to be snooty about.” A glaring disadvantage of having a friend so long. “And you might want to turn the music down. You know how Mrs. Fink can get if you disturb her beauty sleep.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I was tired and still hadn’t come up with the right question for the ball.

  “Don’t placate me.”

  “Now who’s getting snooty?”

  She laughed and said, “You know I love you, Danner. Now shut off the music, go lie down, and get some sleep. Don’t you have a client in the morning?”

  I barely got my “Yes, Mother” out before I heard dead air. She never did tell me where she was at o’dark thirty in the morning.

  I went back to the ball knowing Caro was a big girl and could handle herself, no matter what she was doing. What to ask? What to ask?

  “Are you ready to rumble?” Not brilliant but a question, nonetheless.

  I got ASK AGAIN LATER.

  “All you do is say, ‘Ask again later.’ Don’t you like me?”

  ASK AGAIN LATER.

  Dang it all.

  I wracked my brain. “¿Dónde está el baño?” Maybe the ball was Spanish.

  ASK AGAIN LATER.

  Crap. I’d bought a wonky ball with the ability to give only one answer. All right, the time for ridiculous questions was over. I’d start asking the hard-hitting stuff, and maybe it would eventually perk up enough to give me a real answer. It was worth a try.

  “Is Toby an ass?”

  YES, DEFINITELY.

  Now we were talking. Yes! I barely restrained myself from doing the “For Those About to Rock” salute. It was a close thing.

  I looked back down at the ball, trying to form my next question, and saw the white cube inside roll over on its own. It circled lazily, but my hands weren’t moving, so it shouldn’t be moving at all. Suddenly, the cube stopped, the ball warmed in my hand, and the white cube rose to the surface of the liquid. I stared at the ball while the words WHAZUP DANNER stared back at me.

  Chapter Three

  After lugging myself off the floor, I rubbed my elbow. I’d cracked my funny bone on the wall as I went down. It wasn’t funny. Ouch.

  Had I hit my head, too? I could have sworn the ball had said “what’s up” to me and used my name. But how was that possible? Maybe the creaking sound I heard as I got up was my brain resettling back into place. Maybe trying to be Creative Danner had finally taken its toll on my poor, sad mind.

  I reached for the ball where it rested with its top facing up. No eight graced the top, but now that I looked closer there was some sort of tree burned into it. Before my fingers connected with the wooden surface, I pulled back and sat down on the floor next to it, looking at the kitchen tile. Uh, yeah, I needed to mop in here sometime soon.

  Back to the matter at hand. My cleaning, or lack thereof, was not nearly as important as figuring out what had happened a couple minutes ago. What if the ball really had used my name? That would be very bizarre. And as much as I’d thought I wanted some changes in my life, for something to “give,” as I vaguely remembered saying, I didn’t think I wanted a ball that could spell out my name and talk directly to me. Whatever happened to the good old days of vague responses like MAYBE?

  Then again, I’d probably just had too much to drink and was so excited by the response to my Toby question that I’d imagined the whole thing. Yeah, I was going with that option. Apparently, I had been way drunker than I had originally thought. It was the only halfway decent excuse for the state my mind was in right now.

  I turned my focus back on the ball. “All right, ball, I just want straightforward answers of the absolute vanilla kind.”

  “Well, that’s not going to happen, stupid human.”

  Who the hell was that? The voice wasn’t coming from inside my head; I’d never called myself a human in my life. I placed my hand on the ball, but it felt cool. When I turned it over, the white cube didn’t come to the surface at all.

  Which meant someone else was in my apartment. Crap!

  In my haste to get away from whatever was in the room with me (I watched Supernatural and saw all the creepy things out there), I cracked my elbow again.

  “By the way,” the sneering voice spoke again. “They call it a funny bone because it’s funny to everyone else when you hit it.”

  “Aaaahhhhhhh!” I scrambled back, holding onto my poor, abused body.

  “Your screaming is useless, human. If you’re concerned I’m going to hurt you, don’t be. I wouldn’t waste my valuable energy on your pathetic hide. Why do I never get the smart humans?” He lifted his gaze to the ceiling. The fact that these pithy statements were coming from a dwarf who looked like something straight out of a fairytale didn’t make it any easier to believe what was happening. Oh, and I shouldn’t forget to mention that the horrid little thing couldn’t seem to take the smile off his face no matter how venomously he talked. “Why not one with even half a working brain?”

  All right, that was a little far, even for me. There was no need to be so rude.

  I repeated, what the hell was going on here?

  “If you would calm yourself long enough to have a rational thought, I would be able to help you. And I am not a dwarf; I am a full-blooded gnome.” It (he?) folded little arms across a portly belly and tapped a curly-toed, bootied foot.

  Um.

  “I am a he.”

  I gulped. A talking ball was bizarre enough, but now I had a freaking little dwarf—

  “Gnome!”

  Gnome in my house. Gah. “Um, well, how do you do?” I’m not embarrassed to say I squeaked out the words.

  “Better now that I have finally been let out of my forced imprisonment.”

  Was there any other kind of imprisonment?

  “You are being intentionally dimwitted,” he snarled, with the smile still firmly fixed on his face. That was too weird.

  “Can you read my mind?” Lord knows that wasn’t the only question I had, but it was a start. Better than asking him how he was doing after he fell out of…somewhere. But where?

  “I can only read your mind when you are actively agitated or trying to communicate with me via a psychic link.” He paused and raised a bushy white eyebrow at me. “I wouldn’t try that last one, if I were you. It would be painful to try to connect and find my wall there.”

  Oooo-kay.

  “So because I’m agitated you can read my mind?” I was glad I was still sitting on the floor. I didn’t think I could possibly have this conversation standing up. And the poor wee man was only about twelve inches tall, for all his talk. I would tower over him. Must bring calm, cool, collected Danner out to deal with this crap.

  “Your size does not matter to me. Your brain will always be far less than mine. You are no threat.”

  Oh-ho-ho. Pretty sure of his little self, wasn’t he? And I was having a very strange but still honest to goodness chat with a dwarf.

  “Gnome!”

  Gnome. Christ Almighty!

  “If you are done with your ridiculous, small thoughts, I would like to be taken outside. Now.” His bushy eyebrows formed a V between his eyes, but the smile that wouldn’t quit hadn’t gone anywhere.

  “Outside?”

  “Is this a word you do not comprehend? Outside.” He said it slowly as if talking to a toddler. “The place with trees and air. The moon.”

  “I know what outside is, you horrible, little gnome.” I could also put emphasis on words. “I don’t know why you think I should take you out, though, when you can’t even find it inside your huge brain to be marginally civilized.” Snooty Danner comes to the rescue.

  “Very well.” He harrumphed. That sound coming out of his little body reminded me so much of a ridiculously grumpy dwarf, I had to convert a snicker into a cough at the last moment. “Danner Tenley, if you would…please…escort me to the outdoors, I would be obliged to help you with the object in your possession.”

  “The object in my possession?”

&nbs
p; “The Ball of Infinity, you imbecile.”

  I let that one pass because a better question came to me. “How do you know my name?”

  “I know everyone who has lived in this house since it was built. I have been locked into that small door for the last hundred years.”

  “Door?” I felt like all I had done since he’d appeared was ask questions and repeat after him.

  “Yes, door.” He unfolded one plump arm and pointed a chubby finger imperiously toward a small hinged door, halfway up the wall, that I’d never seen before.

  I’d lived here for a year. How had I missed a door?

  “I believe it was meant to be hidden,” he answered without my asking.

  “I must have knocked it open with my elbow,” I said more to myself than as an observation. Of course, the dw-…gnome felt the need to reply.

  “Yes, it took you long enough. If it weren’t for that horrible music you blast in the house, I bet you would have heard me long before now.”

  Hey, my music was awesome, beyond cool! “Hasn’t anyone else ever heard you?”

  “Would I still have been locked into that tiny hole if someone had heard me?”

  Ah, I wasn’t touching that one with a ten-foot pole. Personally, I thought there was a good possibility no one would have let him out, if he had never learned to show a little more respect than he was right now.

  I must not have been as agitated as before, since he had no comment to my thought. I’d have to remember that if he ever came around again once he left.

  “Outside?” He drew out the word, obviously impatient with how long it was taking me to follow his directive.

  “Yeah, yeah, let’s get you outside so you can be on your way.”

  The pitter-patter of small feet followed me as I walked to the French doors Toby had installed for me. They opened out onto the square of balcony overlooking the backyard. I suppose I could have taken him downstairs and out into the grass, but I wasn’t sure if all the commotion upstairs, coupled with the loud music earlier, might have brought Toby from his bed. I wouldn’t have a hard time explaining the music. The gnome was a whole different problem.

  Said gnome hopped over the doormat and landed on the wood slats with a thump. He was a lot more solidly built than I thought he’d be.

  “It would be nice if I knew your name,” I said. The full moon rode low on the sky. I realized I had no idea what time it was, but it was long after midnight.

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s easier to address you by a name than saying ‘gnome’ all the time?” Maybe his name was Gnome and I’d just insulted him. Wouldn’t be the first time.

  He gave me another half scowl. “My name is Arrol, if you must know.”

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Arrol.” I almost said “Arrol Ifyoumustknow” just to irritate him, but he had said he could help me. Maybe he knew what the deal with the ball was. Why I thought that was beyond me, since he’d just dropped out of the wall ten minutes ago after being locked up for nearly a century, but it was worth a try.

  “I won’t lie and say the same thing, but I will be civil enough to thank you for bringing me out to the moon. I needed the energy.”

  “You’re welcome. Don’t you want to know my name?” I rested back against the balcony railing and crossed my arms and legs. I hadn’t expected to get that much of a civil conversation from him but apparently couldn’t contain myself from wanting more.

  “Tell me you aren’t daft.” He rolled his eyes above his perma-smile. A very creepy look. “I told you your own name when I first read your mind. I don’t need to hear it again.”

  Oh, right. Put me in my place, I guess. “Um, sure, okay, then.” I took a moment to compose myself. I doubted I had ever run up against anyone this disagreeable before. It was going to take me a moment to adjust. Even my Uncle Conroy wasn’t this bad, and everyone avoided being the person stuck next to him at Thanksgiving dinner. It was like a family institution.

  “The sky is calling me and rejuvenating me,” he intoned.

  “Good to hear it.”

  He speared me with a hard look from his little beady eyes. “I do not need your approval. I only need to stay at your home until I find my master.”

  “Alrighty then. I was just trying to make conversation.”

  “I do not make idle conversation.”

  “You are so not going to like living in my house, then. I talk enough for two people.” This had a lot to do with growing up in a home where my parents were more interested in their next gallery showing or kibitzing with their agents than talking to their only daughter. I had ended up having quite a few earnest and extensive conversations with my stuffed animals.

  “Let’s both hope it’s not for long.” He folded his arms over his impressive belly again. “I will need certain things while I am unfortunately at your mercy.”

  “Hey!”

  “Do not take that tone with me, human.” I didn’t know how he did it, but he actually appeared to be staring down his button nose at me—from four feet below. “I will require food and preferably some new clothes.”

  “But I like the whole enchanted forest thing you have going on.” His trousers were brown, his shirt a soft, creamy color, and his vest hunter green to match his little shoes with their curly toes. To top the whole outfit, he wore a jaunty red, cone-shaped hat. Nice.

  “I, however, do not.” His eyebrows drew down again. It was unnerving and would take some getting used to. Normally a person’s whole facial expression allowed me to gauge someone’s mood. But this perma-smile was very disconcerting.

  “Well, I can’t exactly go to Small and Round and pick you up some fancy new duds.” A cold breeze picked up in the dead of night and rattled the remaining leaves on the oak tree spanning my little slice of the western sky between houses. I pulled my sweatshirt closer around me and wished for a jacket.

  “Don’t be flippant, human. I require clothes, and I would at least expect some form of bread and mead before this night is through.” He wasn’t even shivering, and I wondered what kind of internal temperature he had. It was cold tonight, and he was so…little. Maybe the belly kept him warm.

  “Mead? You mean you want beer at”—I looked at the watch I finally remembered I still wore—“three in the morning?”

  “My waking hours are only half over, and yes, I expect beer. And bread. Surely you have bread.” His eyes narrowed, and I did some fast thinking.

  “Sure, sure. I’ll just run right on inside and get some beer, uh, mead, and bread. Be back in a jiffy.”

  What kind of crack had been in my drink earlier?

  I rummaged in the kitchen and came up with something I hoped would appease the little termite.

  “Well, it isn’t much, but it ought to fill your royal decree,” I said when I returned to the balcony wearing a large, puffy coat and carrying one of those short metal TV trays with the extended legs meant for kids to eat in bed. This one had ALF on it and I felt it was appropriate to the situation. Mel had given it to me as a birthday present last year. Arrol was definitely an alien life form, gnome or not.

  What had I stumbled into? Had I really complained less than twenty-four hours ago that life was boring and needed to be shaken up? Warn me next time.

  “I’m sure it will be adequate.” He sniffed the tray I set down in front of him, then turned to me with that damned raised eyebrow again.

  I backed off and sat in my plastic chair. The seat was freezing but would warm up soon enough. My biggie-sized butt would heat it in no time.

  From my position, I could see our small parking area directly behind the house and was surprised to not see Toby’s car there. All my loud Warrant had been for nothing. Damn. He wasn’t even home. A big part of me hoped he wasn’t staying the night with the woman from the bar, but I couldn’t think about that now. I was too fascinated with the way Arrol was tearing through the cold pizza I’d brought out to substitute for my complete lack of bread in the house. The beer was Corona
, and I had skipped the lime, just in case.

  Between the gnawing and slurping, Arrol burped louder than a foghorn. How did such a huge sound come out of such a small body?

  I tried to stifle a yawn and failed.

  “If you are tired, human, you may leave me. I will come in when I am ready.”

  “But I have to put you back in the door.”

  Wow, were those the wrong words.

  “I will take you down to the depths of the earth and leave you to rot if you try to put me back into that damn door.” All delivered from between maniacally curved lips. Yikes.

  “So you’re staying?” Why wasn’t I having a harder time accepting this situation? I had a ball that talked to me (not that I’d had a chance to find out if it truly had talked), a gnome scarfing my leftovers and my last beer, and a missing landlord who’d ignored me earlier tonight to wade in cleavage. I guess I thought things couldn’t be worse.

  “Yes, I will be here indefinitely. Leave the door open on your way back in. I expect a place prepared for me to sleep. Also, turn on the talking box near the door. I need to see what has been happening since my imprisonment. I’ll need to acclimate myself to this strange new world.”

  Do you think maybe I should have tugged my forelock before I ducked back into the house, pulled out a blanket and pillow, then turned on the television for his little lordship?

  Chapter Four

  I must have fallen into a dead sleep after getting home from the bar, because the next thing I knew, the smell of wonderful, life-giving coffee permeated the air and stark sunshine shot straight into my poor eyes. As itchy as they were, I was sure I was in for a treat when I looked in the mirror. Corporate Danner—hell, Sane Danner—was nowhere in sight.

  I stumbled from my queen-size bed, taking half the covers with me to the floor. My head pounded as I crawled toward my bathroom. Coffee was important, but it would have to wait until I went to the bathroom.

  Done, and truly horrified by the red network of blood vessels standing out in the whites of my eyeballs, I headed for the kitchen. Thank God for automatic timers. I was a little surprised, though, that I had remembered to flip the switch before falling exhausted into bed last night. Still, I wasn’t going to look a gift cup of coffee in the mouth.