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Edited on Mon Mar-09-09 09:58 AM by shadowknows69
Alternate title: “What I did on my internet vacation”
The eyes in the wood of the staircase still stared unblinking at us with utter contempt. The ancient hand crafted ascent hadn’t thwarted our company yet, although in truth the challenges we faced so far paled in comparison to the task we were facing now.
Despite the steep climb and stark ninety degree angle at the half way mark; our nemesis had failed to stop many boxes and crates from reaching its summit. Even I, Shadow, back nearly broken from a lifetime of perilous adventure, managed to fight the beast to the top, triumphantly delivering several parcels of vital cargo. In fact, the sharp branch to the left in the stairs, meant to be a hindrance, served as a boon to those with smaller boxes as there was a small landing one could rest at for a time. Surely any design flaw in the Stair God’s defenses that we could exploit would be used for maximum effect.
The logistics of the move were such that usually at least one of us had to stay with the family pet. She was a loving, but easily excitable critter of the Treeing Walker Coonhound variety and to have her present in any precarious situation involving furniture and people would simply throw far too much chaos into the event. Also she tended to pee when frightened by loud noises, a reflex learned from a sad story that time and space don’t permit me to engage here.
Being the least physically able of our team, save perhaps for the pregnant wife of one of the group who came to help occasionally, I drew dog sitting duty and attempted to continue to box the remaining disaster at the “moving from” site.
So the main task of fighting the Evil Stairs, I’m embarrassed to admit, fell upon my wife and her nephew; the only one of our many previously “eager to help” friends, that was actually eager to help and actually showed up to do so. Consequentially he was the only one of our previously “eager to help” friends that got paid well that day.
The dressers and bed could have been our undoing if not for the stalwart companions helping me. Queen Nania of Shadowland was a beautiful and loving monarch. At times so gentle a soul that one weeps to be in her presence out of sheer adoration; and yet, another side to the Queen exists, a true alter ego, occasionally frightening but when focused on a singular purpose, unstoppable in method or motive. A fierce and determined warrior sorceress who will continue until she drops; “Damn the torpedoes!”, “Remember the Alamo!”, “NUTS!”, “Fuck you I won’t do what you tell me! ”, etc. etc. etc.
Her nephew Janus, likewise, has a dual nature of sorts. He‘s a thin and wiry lad to look at and of a pleasant nature, but his average looking physique hides strength akin to great Heracles himself. His pale skin, thin arms and legs, are all a ruse hiding muscle and bone which must have been forged with fire and iron instead of tissue and ligament. Nothing but woe will befall the man who tussles with this boy thinking him an easy mark.
As mentioned previously I was spending most of my time during the fight dog sitting, sorting, tossing away, bagging, boxing and other various logistical duties, so the tale I tell of the battle of the stairs is mostly what was related to me. I have no doubt what my wife told me was without hyperbole as she has never been known to lie to me in the serious matters that relocation entails.
The time of the large objects was upon us and Nania and Janus loaded the moving van with the biggest items they’d attempted yet. The basic layout of the new apartment necessitated a certain order to the hauling. The place was much smaller than where we were moving from and designed in a more linear fashion that allowed little room for decorating improvisation.
Big bathroom stuff first, then dressers because the bedroom was the only portal to both of these and believe me when I say there is no room for anything but the bed and a small walking path. Finally the monstrous queen sized, brass framed cot we’d lay in for years. At the time we weren’t sure the room would even accommodate it; it nearly didn’t and we had to sacrifice access to one small closet to make the fit.
So with my dog and me left to sit in our forest of empty and full boxes, garbage and general debris left from the hasty dismantling of our former lives, Queen Nania and valiant Janus departed to tame the portal to our new home.
TO BE CONTINUED
-S
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