Finding Miss Cellaneous Novellas

Bit

Bit had been alienated from his hometown all his life.

Constantly harassed by the older boys, by the time he was six years old Bit had been well-known as the craven kid, for his attitude and his appetite.

With negligible attention from most adults and inclement, punitive verbal attacks from his schoolteacher, he had felt lonely and afraid, yet determined to prove them wrong.

Now, Bit is sitting in his old home, staring at the previous day's paper.

The only thing worth noting is the untimely demise of the old schoolteacher, the same one who used to make him feel worthless.

He cannot understand why he isn't exhilarated right now. Instead, Bit feels... empty.

He has achieved all he wanted in life. College, graduate school, recognition for writing research papers. There is nothing more to prove, nothing more to do.

Bit decides to get up. Stretch his legs, his arms, his back.

He is interrupted by a hesitant knock at the door, someone clearing their throat nervously outside.

Suddenly very aware that he is standing in a house that doesn't belong to him anymore, Bit turns and opens the door.

On the doorstep stands a man. He is hunched over, but his massive frame blocks out almost all light from the porch lamp. When the door opens, he straightens up.

"How may I help you?" Bit asks. He doesn't recognize the man, not yet.

The man opens his mouth, to speak, perhaps, or to shout at him for trespassing. Instead, nothing comes out, and he closes his mouth, slouching over again and rubbing his face with one hand. Within a few seconds, though, his mouth opens again.

"I'd like to apologize."

The man speaks, with a hint of apprehension. He raises his head to reveal watery eyes and a pouchy, frowning face.

Now Bit recognizes him. Bullfrog, as he had been affectionately nicknamed by his mother decades ago, for his low, throaty voice.

Bit remembers no other name.

Bullfrog had spent most of his childhood taking pleasure in making Bit's life miserable. It seems he has now come to liquidate the animosity between them, thirty years too late.

Bit doesn't care. Bullfrog doesn't understand. There hasn't been animosity for years.

"There's nothing to apologize for," Bit replies.

Bullfrog winces.

Bit realizes he spoke a bit too sharply. The corner of his mouth lifts as he notices the pun in his thought.

Bullfrog takes his flicker of a smile as a gesture of peace, and nods. He turns away, then turns back, holding out his hand.

"It's nice to see you again, Wendell."

Bit takes his hand.

"Likewise, David."

They shake hands.

For the first time.