The Thing From Underneath

introductions

              The Thing From Underneath

   It's been 8 weeks since Jordan's surgery, and being able to get around her apartment a bit better is a freeing feeling. Her life may exist solely in three rooms - bathroom, bedroom, and kitchen- but it's alot better than being bedbound with a bedside commode and her mom coming in every day to bring Tupperware boxes of weird "crunchy" meals. Shuffling around holding onto walls and countertops for stability feels like a marathon each time she has to do it, though. The muscles surrounding her lower spine scream and twitch with white-hot pain at the lightest bend or turn. Who knew the procedure to fix a slipped disc would cause pain even worse than the condition itself?

    "In about 12 weeks you should be able to resume normal activity." The surgeon had told her. "You'll start physical therapy at the two week mark as long as there are no complications."

   That physical therapy was nothing short of torture, but Jordan was determined to break out of the uncannily sterile hospital as soon as she could, so she worked her ass off every day. There were lots of tears and even more colorful language, but she did it. At the 6 week mark after her surgery she was told to start "light activity". Unfortunately, all that meant was she was finally allowed to be up and moving outside of physical therapy just enough to make it to the bathroom.

   Now, standing in front of the fridge Jordan pushes the lip of her glass against the small lever attached to her freezer. All she wants this evening is some ice water and some toast. The pain medication she's been taking has made her more nauseous than even the worst hangover. Once her glass is about half full of ice she pulls it away, but just as the lever springs forward a chunk of ice falls to the floor. It almost sounds like a small stone falling against the linoleum, and it's now split in half.

   Jordan just stares at it for a few seconds. She could squat at the knees to pick it up. Bending down certainly isn't an option.

   "Eh, it'll dry." She shrugs, kicking the ice under the fridge.

   "Tthhank yoouu." A voice croaks. It's harsh yet quiet. It sounds like someone with bronchitis trying to whisper scream.

   Jordan pauses. The pharmacist did say that there was a chance of hallucinations on this medication. Did she double dose by accident? Fuck it, even if it is a hallucination, it's still a chance to talk to someone.

   "Yeah, no problem." She shuffles her feet to turn around, heading to the sink to fill her glass. As she turns on the tap she hears the voice again, but can't make out what it says. Setting the glass down on the countertop she does her shuffle turn again, facing the Talking Refrigerator. "Excuse me?"

   "Watttter." The voice wiggles it's way through the air.

   "You mean you want me to just spray water under my fridge? No way. That's how I get mold and lose my deposit all in one go." Jordan snorts. This hallucination clearly doesn't understand renter's agreements.

   "Harddd watttter." It says. It almost comes across as a question. It's like a toddler describing a wasp as a "ouch fly".

   "You mean ice?"

   "Yyyes. Thhhirsty."

   With a shrug Jordan pushes down the little ice maker lever again, this time letting a few pieces fall to the floor. Holding on to the counter beside her she very carefully kicks each piece under the appliance. Nearly immediately after disappearing there is a faint crunching sound. It sounds like her childhood dog chewing on frozen green beans

   "You good now?" Jordan knows she needs to lay down soon. Her incision site is starting to ache and sting.

   "Hungggry?" The voice asks timidly.
   The woman shakes her head. This is getting ridiculous. "I dunno, man. I've got some chicken in the fridge that I can't stomach. You want that?"

   A faint, almost inaudible purr is followed by a small pleading "Yyesss."

   Jordan glances at her bedroom door from the corner of her eye. She considers calling her mom to come over for a day or two. Especially now that she is fully considering shoving a handful of shredded chicken under her refrigerator to feed a hallucination. She's starting to regret that surgery.

   "I mean, I really don't want to just put food out. My unit is the only one without a bug problem." It feels silly making excuses to a figment of her own mind.

   "Meee." The voice says with a twinge of pride.

   Jordan snorts. This thing is taking credit for the lack of bugs now? A moment passes. Well, it does make sense. There weren't any roaches or ants in the unit when she moved in even with all of the traffic in and out.

   Maybe... maybe this thing is real?

   "Alright. Alright. One stale plate of chicken, coming right up."  She pulls the fridge open and drops a couple of handfuls of the shredded chicken on the floor as close to the gap as possible. With her toes she shoves each piece underneath, cringing at the cold almost squishy texture. She wonders for a moment of the thing under her fridge will bite her. Its crunched through the ice, so it obviously has teeth. Are they sharp like a cat's? Or maybe it's more of a jaw strength thing like a dog.

   "Alright, dude." Jordan groans out "I've got to go lay down and take my next dose of meds. I've already been up too long." She grabs her water glass from the counter where she left it, and before she leaves the kitchen she realizes something.

   "Hey so, if you're hungry later I haven't taken the trash out. I'm guessing you're like a possum or whatever and-"

   "Under." The thing interrupts her.

   "Huh?"

   "Unddeerrrr." It says just a bit... louder? No, not any louder, just more insistent.

   "Oh, you can only be under the fridge?" Jordan asks.

   "No. Justtt unddder." It says, seemingly relieved at the quick understanding.

   "So, like, under rhe fridge or couch or whatever." She says, more to the open air than the thing under the fridge. "I guess I'll just put leftovers under there for you, then. I haven't been eating much lately, so you'll get alot more to eat than just random insects."

   "Ouuuch?" The thing's question comes off as less curious and more concerned.

   "Yeah, I had surgery on my lower back a few months ago. I'm still healing up from that. It's why I have to go lay down." Jordan winces and shifts her weight from foot to foot. Hallucination or not, this thing needs to wrap up this conversation.

   "Eat anythhhing." It says.

   "Whatever that means. I'm going to my bedroom. Toodles." She knows she shouldn't take her pain out on anyone like this, real or not, but she's starting to see stars.

   The shuffle back to bed is an arduous trek. The glass of ice water nearly spilled a few times as muscle spasms tore through her still healing back. The plush mattress topper given to her by one of the nurses at the hospital cradles the woman like a mother's arms. She grabs the little orange pill bottle next to her water and dumps each tablet into her hand.

   "1, 2, 3, 4,.... 18. They're all there. I didn't double dose." Jordan things out loud. She's always been on the fence about believing in the supernatural. Whatever. She tosses the little plastic bottle onto the other side of the bed and tries to shift around. This slight movement tugs at one of the internal sutures and she cries out.

   "Eaaat ouccchhh." A now familiar voice drifts up from underneath her bed.

   Jordan groans and ignores it. It's time to get a nap. She just knows when she wakes up she's going to find a bunch of wet chicken poking out from under her fridge, but that's a later problem.