Among The Wolves

Close Call

With a gasp I sat upright. Looking around at the beige and dusty blue painted room with green accents, I noticed that the large window let in daylight… too much daylight. I scampered to my  bag after recollecting who I was and where I was. Wrestling with the zipper I manage to pull the watch out.

What!? It's nearly eleven?

I yanked off the nightgown and quickly pulled on my clothes. Slipping into my barely damp shoes I quickly pattered down the steps. Mr. and Mrs. Bertrand were both in their lazy-boys. Mr. Bertrand was working on some crossword puzzle and Imogen was snoring while asleep. Both were in their daytime clothes and looked like they'd been up a while… Well, not so much Imogen.

Bertrand looked over at his readers. When he saw me his eyes lit up. “Imogen! She's woken up.”

The white haired woman startled out of her nap and looked around until she spotted me. Her wrinkled features gave away a soft smile. It made me feel bad that I had caused them to wait.

Yet, a flashback of Mes'Mu smacking the back of my head resurfaced in my mind. I took a hesitant step forward. “I am sorry that I slept in. I will get started right away with your bedroom transfer.”

Imogen waved a hand. “Oh nonsense.” She took a minute to get out of her chair. “Now that you are up we can get going on breakfast.”

I glanced at her and at the grandfather clock that ticked just past eleven. “Umm. It's just about lunchtime now.” For a weird reason my guilt was making me anticipate Mes'Mu-like reactions from this couple.

“Is there a rule against pancakes at noon?”

The humor in Imogen's eyes allowed me to relax a little. “There isn't. Would you like me to help you?”

“That'd be lovely, you can tell me your favorite topping.”

I smiled and followed her to the kitchen.
With the both of us working we made a hefty ‘breakfast’ of pancakes, eggs, sausage and a fruit salad.

We ate and laughed at cheesy jokes from Bertrand.

After cleaning up the meal I got up and went to the armoire. Just after the last drawer we could move it to the room. I was a bit nervous about it. This solid red oak piece of furniture did not look light at all.

The couple warned me that it was front heavy which explained why it was screwed to the wall via L-bracket.

Imogen gave me a box to empty the contents of the last drawer and Bertrand and I tried to figure out the phonetics of moving this to the next room. After some deliberation we figured that some skirmish and koshpah would do the trick. I pulled and Bertrand pushed. We made it to the transition of the door and decided that it was time for Bertrand to take a break.

I noticed that the armoire was a little imbalanced since one leg was on the transition piece that laid between the rooms. I attempted to carefully squeeze between the piece of furniture and the door frame so that I could exit the room. It was a tight fit but with my thin frame we figured I could get through if I took my bulky boots off.

When squeezing a third of the way through I noticed the armoire tipping slightly. “Maybe I can just stay in this room until your break is done.”

Bertrand looked at me, I could tell he'd strained himself too much already. He needed a good nap and probably a chiropractor appointment. “Are you stuck?” He asked.

“Well, no, I just don't want to tip this over.”

Bertrand wobbled closer, “I will hold the other side and you can come out.”