Lesson 4 At Odds

At Odds

It was raining again. It seems to always do that on the days I move. Oh well, I guess I should be used to it by now, this is Seattle after all. I pulled up to the row of duplexes on Denny Way and slowed to count the house numbers. 1205, green house, white trim, “This is the one,” I said to no one in particular. I pulled into the driveway and busily started unpacking my things from the car. Realizing I didn’t have the key, I headed to the front door and was about to knock when I noticed an envelop with my name on it. I opened it, and found a key, and a brief note that read:

Daniel,

Welcome HOME! Please make yourself comfortable. I’m out for a run. Back in a bit.

• Michael R. Howe

“Strange…” I thought to myself. Who signs their whole name on a note? I shrugged it off, and started to unload the car. I was still a little miffed at my buddy Tom, who was supposed to help me move, but somehow, he conveniently found something else to do instead…frigging flake I thought to myself, not for the first time.

It was about 5:00 pm when I finally got the last of my stuff unloaded and dropped into my room. “Hello, Daniel? Ya here?” came a voice from down the hall. “Yeah, Mike, in my bedroom,” I replied as I set about the task of unpacking my things. I didn’t look up when he entered the room, but I could tell he was there. For some reason, the temperature in the room seemed to change, as if a door or window had been opened. “Daniel, hey Daniel!” I looked up to see my new roommate who was dressed in old sweats and a torn AC/DC tee shirt with a head band. His eyes were a dull gray, the color of a cinder block, and had no spark to them at all. The head band wrapped around a head of dull brown hair. “Actually I prefer if you call my by my given name, Michael. Thank you Daniel.” “Uh, no problem, uh Michael. It’s just Dan for me. Thanks” “Oh, no Daniel, I could not just call you Dan, it’s not your name Daniel. That’s a much better name to be called Daniel.” “Whatever man, either way. It’s all good.” He continued to watch me as I unpacked. I decided to ignore him, in the hopes that he’d eventually get bored and go take a shower or something. “You know, I have a label maker, and I would love to help by making labels for you,” he said with all the emotion of a corpse. “Oh, yeah, I noticed the labels when I came in today. I was wondering about that. He didn’t respond, but continued to watch me. “You want to come in and sit on the bed while I unpack?” I asked. I figured that he wasn’t going anywhere at this point. “No thank you Daniel.” He continued to just watch me blankly. It was starting to creep me out a bit, so I tried a new tact, “Man, I am thirsty, wanna have a beer?” I asked him. “Huh? Oh Yeah, I’d love a beer. Wait right here, I’ll go grab it.” Finally I thought to myself. Michael came back a couple of minutes later with two Michelob Dry beers. I tried not to let my eyebrows raise up at the site of this. “Thanks Mike, er Michael.” “No problem roomie,” he said, handing me the beer. I took the beer and began to chug it, partially out of thirst, partially because I couldn’t think of anything else to say. He continued to look at me blankly, but then broke the awkward silence saying, “You shouldn’t drink beer so fast Daniel, it’s not healthy.” I belched, loudly, and gave him a crooked stare of my own, “Oh? And how is that so, Mr. Howe?” He looked momentarily confused, as if he was trying to come up with a rebuttal, but was having a difficult time of it. “It’s got something to do with your body fat index increasing if consuming alcohol quickly.” I gave him one of my own flat stares for a few long moments, before I said, “Bullshit!” He ignored this, and started in on a new line of conversation, “Say, Daniel, I go by the grocery store almost every day. Why not give me $50.00 a week, and I will take care of the shopping.” I wasn’t sure about this, but thought that it would be best to remain polite, “Uh, yeah, thanks Mike, er Michael. Trouble is, I am out of cash at the moment.” He blew this off with a wave of his hand, “Don’t worry roomie, I got you this week. It is all good.” I was taken back by this generosity for a moment, but found my composure and thanked him.

The rest of the afternoon and evening, I continued to unpack, blissful to be relieved of his company as he finally realized that he was sweaty, and needed a shower. I played the weird events of the afternoon over in my head, continually coming back to the conclusion that my new roommate, albeit a nice person, was very strange indeed. I chastised myself for that line of thinking about a person I barely knew, and resolved to give things another chance. It would be different tomorrow, and all I needed at this point was some shuteye.

The alarm went off, jarring me out of an excellent dream I was having about my friend’s sister, and a kiddy pool and jello, and her holding a can of whip-cream. I looked around, one eye shut, trying to make sense of the situation. I didn’t set an alarm I thought to myself. Besides, that’s not even my alarm I thought, my ire now rising. I was startled to full awake by my roommate standing right next to my bed in his pajamas (leopard spotted ones I might add), holding his iPhone right next to my head. “JESUS CHRIST!” I blurted out of shock. “Good Morning Daniel,” my new roommate said in a sing-song voice. “Rise and shine, Early bird gets the worm, and all that,” he said. “Oh blow it out your ass!” I mumbled under my breath. “What was that?” he asked giving me a sudden sharp look, “Nothing,” I said. “ Michael, what are you doing in my room at…” I trailed off, looking around for my clock. “Holy crap, FOUR THIRTY AM!??? WHAT IN THE HELL MICHAEL?” I yelled at him. He just waited patiently for me to be done blustering, before he responded. “You needed to get up, so you can do calisthenics while I grab a shower. It’s best if we wake up at the same time, so we can get into a routine schedule, you know.” “I most certainly DON’T know, Mike,” I spat. “I don’t start until noon today, as I have the second shift. Now if you’ll excuse me, I would like to go back to sleep.” He gave me one of his famous blank stares, and said in his annoyingly flat tone, “It’s Michael, Daniel. I thought we established that yesterday.” “Mike, Michael, whatever! I frankly do NOT care at FOUR THIRTY in the GODDAMNED MORNING!” He didn’t move. The Son of a bitch just stood there, gaping at me like a dead fish. “Did you hear me, Michael?” I said, drawing his name out to punctuate the statement. “We should get up at the same time, that way we can establish a routine schedule,” he repeated flatly, as if he had memorized a line out of a script. “Michael, I swear to GOD, if you don’t get out of my room IMMEDIATELY I’m going to throw your ass out!” Again, nothing, but the stare. “You’re not movin eh? You’re just going to stand there and look like a dead trout?” I said, my breath becoming audible with each second. I returned the stare for as long as I could, until I finally gave up, “FINE, I will get up! But I am taking a shower first!” His blank stare became one of surprise, like I’d slapped him, “No, Daniel, if we’re to establish a routine, I must be the first to take a shower. I didn’t listen to him, I was out the door with my towel in hand. He started after me, tapping me on the shoulder, “Daniel, did you not hear me, I need to be the first in the shower. He followed me until we got to the bathroom, where I promptly turned around and gave him the middle finger before I slammed the door in his face. “Daniel, DANIEL!? Did you not hear me? I need to be the first one in the shower. He stood outside the bathroom knocking insistently, but not pounding on the door, which took me by surprise. I turned on the water and let the steam rise into the air until the entire room was a steam bath. I stepped in and commenced to singing out of tune at the top of my lungs, the words to On top of old Smokey, but with the altered words my brother and I had made up when we were kids ,”

On top of old Smooookeeeey, all covered with sand,

I slapped my dumb room mate with a rubber chicken in hand.

I repeated the words over and over until at last, the knocking had ceased. Was he FINALLY Gone I wondered aloud.

I was still irked as hell at the thought of being woken up way earlier than I had planned, so I decided that I was going to make him suffer a tad, the control freak nut job. At the end of my shower, I stepped out quietly and let the water continue to run. I had deliberately turned the cold water off, so that the hot water continued to flow. I waited about a half hour, checking to make sure the temperature was gradually cooling every so often until it ran freezing cold. With that, I gathered my towel, and walked down the hallway, making sure to drip water behind me. That ought to please him to NO end I thought.

I didn’t hear anything from him as he entered the bathroom, and I even didn’t hear any shouts of outrage when the water was turned on. I laughed to myself, as I threw on a pair of shorts and a hoodie. Might as well get a ride in since I was already up, and there were no longer any prospects of sleeping in. I casually walked into the kitchen to grab some cereal before heading out on my bike, when I noticed the labels with numbers on them all around the kitchen. What in THE HELL is up with this guy I thought. Glancing from one side of the kitchen to the other, I could see that there was hardly a spot that didn’t have a labeled number on it. I shrugged, and approached the refrigerator, when I noticed several pieces of paper that were laminated and held together by a single ring binder. I grabbed it and started perusing its contents as I opened the fridge and grabbed the milk. Each label number corresponded with a notation on the paper, giving its proper corresponding location. “Man this guy’s out there,” I said aloud. The faintest of notions that I had made the wrong choice in apartments was tickling the back of my mind for a moment, but I shrugged it off.

I was still eating my cereal when Michael came into the kitchen. He gave me a cold look, and then bounded across the kitchen, grabbing up the milk which I had left out and placing it ever so gently back in its properly numbered location. He turned to be, giving me one of his blank stares for a moment before he said quietly, “You know, my last roommate didn’t appreciate the value of the system. I sure hope you learn to.” I stopped with my spoon poised at my mouth, milk dripping onto the table. I gave him a quizzical look, “What?” I asked. He ignored my look, and question, promptly taking up a towel and fastidiously wiping up the counter where the milk had been. I got up, grabbed my bowl, and stepped around him as I lightly tossed the bowl into the rubber wash basin in the sink. He was about to say something, but I ignored him and walked out.

Ten minutes later, I had my riding shorts, my helmet, and my wind breaker on, and was carrying my bike on my shoulder, heading to the door. Michael was standing in front of the door leaning against it with the intent to bar my exit. “Excuse me Mike,” I said. I had resolved that he would be forever called Mike by myself regardless of his preference. This guy was a jackass, and I was not in the mood for any more of his weirdness. “I said, EXCUSE ME, MIKE!!” Once again, he just looked at me with that flat stare. “All items in the kitchen need are to be washed and dried by hand before you go anywhere,” he said flatly, now crossing his arms. It was at this moment that I was happy that I was significantly bigger than him. I carefully set my bike down and grabbed him by the elbows firmly and bodily moved him out of the way. I didn’t say anything to him as I did this, and all he could do was just stare at me while I avoided his glance. Once moved, I picked up my bike, opened the door and walked out.

I came back around 10:00 am feeling much better having ridden my frustration off. I didn’t say anything as I entered the apartment. The kitchen, from what I could see was spotless, and all items were washed and put away. I shook my head as I walked back to my room, laughing quietly to myself. Opening the door, I was dumbstruck as I walked in and gazed bug eyed at my room which was littered with numbered labels. There weren’t just labels in places like the drawers, but labels on my laptop, my iPad, and in my closet. It too had been completely altered, with the shirts being hung in what I could only assume to be a logical pattern, based on color combinations. I felt like I was in the twilight zone, as I could feel my heart starting to palpitate quickly. I set the bike down, deciding that I in no uncertain terms, needed a beer to help me cope with this weirdness. Setting off to the kitchen, I could hear Michael therein, muttering to himself. “Hello Daniel,” he said in that annoying sing-song voice. I ignored him, as I stepped past him, reaching into the fridge. “What the HELL?” I gasped. “Where are the beers I bought last night?” I asked, turning towards him. “Those beers are fattening, and are not good for you, Daniel.” I was dumbfounded, and couldn’t speak. I glanced back in the fridge again, noticing for the first time that all of the food that I had brought with me was gone. In its place, I saw items I didn’t recognize like “TOFURKY Deli slices” and “Veganaise”.

This was the last straw. I turned to face him again, my eyes set in a cold, black stare, “What in the HELL is all of this crap!” I said in a low tone. He smiled at me, showing a toothy grin. “Oh, those are the foods you should eat. Eating vegan is a very good way to stay healthy. I stood there, my breathing becoming labored, as I felt the blood rushing to my head. I couldn’t see it, but I could have sworn that the vein on my temple was pulsating, growing more and more pronounced with each passing moment. “Mike,” I said, trying to maintain calm. “Michael,” he sang, “Remember?” That was the last straw. Before he could utter another word, I grabbed him by the upper arm in one hand, and the back of the head in the other, and ran him bodily straight into the refrigerator. His head struck, and he let out a whimpering cry. I smiled viciously, “Guess what Mike,” I said through my teeth, “Time to pay the piper.” With that, I hauled him up and half shoved, half threw him into the living room where he tripped over the back of the couch and landed with a loud SMACK on the hardwood floor. There was loud knock at the door, accompanied with a hesitant, “Michael, are you ok?” The neighbor next door had obviously heard the racket and came to investigate. “MICHAEL’s NOT HERE,” I bellowed, not allowing my idiot of a roommate a moment to speak. The knocking stopped. “Why are you doing this Daniel?” Michael asked, now panting heavily. “It’s better for your health,” I said simply. “And, oh, by the way, I am giving my notice to vacate, you stupid weird freak,” I said with an evil grin playing on my lips.

Before I could move to inflict any more damage, there was a lout knock at the door, followed by an even louder, “SEATTLE PD! Open UP!” I froze, not knowing what to do. Michael looked at me through the one eye that wasn’t swollen, and held up his iPhone in his other hand with the word “EMERGENCY CALL” printed in bold white letters. “You weren’t adhering to the system Daniel,” said Michael, a vicious grin now showing at the corners of his mouth. The next thing I knew, two Seattle cops had broken their door in, and flew into the room with guns drawn. “FREEZE PUNK!” they said in unison to me. I put my hands up, while the one police officer made to grab one hand to cuff it then the other. “All you had to do was adhere to my system Daniel. Guess you living here just isn’t going to work out after all.” And with that, I was hauled away.