Rabbits in the Garden

Eurythmics - Here Comes the Rain Again

Vi found it frankly impressive that Marc could get a full sized mattress this stuck. He employed the same methods Marc had used before: pulling at each side and attempting to rock it free.

"That was my predicament," Marc offered as he watched him struggle.

Not to be beaten that easily, Vi removed his sunhat, and put it along with his bag on the counter. Then, after a bit of debating, slipped off his heels and set them in a corner of the room. "Here, you get the bottom, I'll get the top. On three, we pull."

Marc nodded and joined him in the stairwell, grabbing hold of the bottom portion of the mattress. At the count of three, both men strained to pry the mattress free from its prison. First, the top corner of Vi's end popped away from the railing that had hooked it into place. Then Marc was able to wiggle his side away from the wall. The bowed springs straightened until the mattress was once again flat and uninhibited within the stairwell.

Vi laughed in relief and offered Marc a high-five, which was received with some question and a rather limp hand. Marc gave him a small, satisfied smile, which once again caused Vi to blush.

Ugh, Vi thought.

It was as if, since Marc was so reserved, any hint of happiness or humor was amplified tenfold. Vi kicked himself for getting so flustered over such little occasions, but he knew it would be an awful mistake to hope it would stop. The chance that Marc could possibly be interested in him was miniscule, but he was such a fascinating person either way, and Vi was already far too invested in learning what made him tick.

"Alright, now to get it up the stairs."

Marc's smile faded at Vi's words, and he grabbed a better hold on the mattress once more. Again they employed their "One, two, three, heave" method, and the mattress inched its way up each stair until they were halfway. Vi called for a timeout and rested against the wall, taking heavy breaths.

"Are you okay?" Marc asked as he got closer, holding out his hands as if ready to catch Vi.

Vi laughed breathlessly. "I'm fine, and don't worry about me falling. I'm disabled, not old. Besides, this dress doesn't make it easier."

He felt Marc study his face. "How old are you?"

"Thirty-eight," he huffed out.

A strange noise escaped Marc, and Vi was startled to see him practically glaring.

"You're younger than me? But... what about the grey hair?"

"Eh, I was born a powder blonde. Kids called me Casper. I went gray in high school, and then I was just Grandpa."

Marc frowned. "I'm sorry."

"Pft" he replied, waving off the sympathy.

They continued with the task at hand. Step by step they labored until they had reached the top of the landing. This time both men had to take a moment to catch both their breath and their balance. The slight temperature change from the first floor to the second was palpable, if not a bit exaggerated from the exercise.

There was no light upstairs besides a little window, and despite Vi's sheepish, fleeting attempt, he could no longer see Marc's face. There was no longer any telling where ink-black curls ended and where pale, gaunt face began. Vi blindly searched for a light switch.

"Wait, let me-"

Before Marc could finish his thought, Vi had found the switch and flicked it on. A thick orange hue fell over the room, dimly revealing the only furniture: a set of chairs. They were placed curiously in a circle, facing each other but with nothing in the middle.