Amusements; or, a Winter Novel

Chapter 4 - The Painter with a Million Dollar House, Part 2

Chapter 4 - The Painter with a Million Dollar House, Part 2

It's been, I wanna guess 30 minutes? My bags over my shoulder with my essential items, it's closing time back at the Rat's Coffeehouse, and my back nearly broke.

These seemingly tiny, petite, little boxes happen to weigh almost about as much as a car, if not, half a car. It was dense.

It was like gravity was magnetizing the box towards the ground, and possibly impairing my back or feet - if it drops on both - permanently.

My breathing gets heavier until it labors.

"So," I asked: "What did your wife say this stuff is?"

"Ugh, I don't know. She never told me." he said.

"She never told you?" I asked.

"Yeah," he answered: "That's what I just said."

"Whatever, Semantics Professor." I answered in a state of pithy.

After what felt like 2 eternities, we finally made it to what he said was his house.

"Damn, what is that? 17 feet in height?" I asked.

"It ain't much, but yeah. How could you tell from the looks of it?" he asked.

"It ain't much?!!" I asked.

"Yeah, no." he said. "We used to live, the both of us, with a friend of ours, beside other friends of ours, until we just moved on. But it was her idea to buy a house and move there, just for the two of us, and a dog we got. We named her Biscuit. Plus, we're still friends with those guys and gals. In fact, we live literally right in front of them."

"You got a house pet?" I asked out of curiosity.

"2, actually." he said. "Well, we used to have two. But he's not here anymore. On this world, at least."

"...Sorry to hear about that." I said.

"Thank you." he said. "You happen to have a dog?"

"No, but I gotta cat. His name's Kuma." I said. "Real handful. But after my parents and brothers and sisters died, that feeling when you know you at least got a companion beside you to let you know you're not alone to drown out the feeling that you're alone, it's worth it. Kind of a needy narcissist, though."

"Hooh, sounds like he has a lot of personality." he said.

"Believe me, Red-Eyes." I said. "Kuma has more personality than I will ever have in my singular lifetime."

"Yep, sounds like it." he said. "Alright, we're here!"

"Really?" I said in relief. "Because my back feels like it will go into some form of severe scoliosis the next time I sleep and wake up in the morning, and waking up in pain is colloquial to me."

"Yeah, we're here. You can drop off the boxes now."

As I hastily dropped off the boxes, I noticed that some of them were so heavy, not only did it create some sort of vibration in the concrete cement on the ground, it even broke some of it completely off. Now that's what I call a messa-di-voce.

But I was so focused on the relief I felt as I took the weight literally off my chest enough to not notice it at all. And neither did Red-Eyes, apparently.

"Alright, thanks buddy." he said. He then put out his hand in order for me to shake it as a sign of thanks, which I did.

"Right on. Wonder what your wife needs nameless weights for. Does she lift?" I said.

"Actually, she does." he said. "But yeah, thanks again for the help. I'm tired. I'm definitely considering your coffeeshop as a hangout spot now that you helped me with this. Expect a few colorful characters heading your way from now on. But I gotta bounce; see you next time."