And Boy said hello to the man who’d opened the door slowly, it being two in the morning and all, and stared seemingly through Boy who wore two different hued shoes, boxer shorts and a baseball cap.
And you are? asked the homeowner.
Boy, said Boy, And I’ve come to stay the night, he continued. Just then he walked in, absorbing the warmth along the way and comfortably making himself at home.
How old are you and what makes you think waltzing in here like this at two in the morning is such a good idea.
I may have a baby face and baby body dir sir, but I’m twenty six. May I, he asked looking over at the couch.
Hell, have at it, said the man.
And Boy laid on his back on two of the three cushions with arms crossed, just like a civilized corpse in a coffin. Wonderful couch you have here dir sir, he quacked, his voice popping out of nowhere. And he continued. These cushions do remind me of the womb, not quite round enough, but supporting in the way one feels almost like they’re floating. I must say it was a mistake staying in there much too long, twelve months and two days to be exact, which is the reason I came out with abbreviated height. It seems, once a man, well I was nothing more than a baby then but allow me to paint the story how I see fit for entertainment. You see I’m an entertainer most nights. Clowns, he began than paused.
Excuse me? The puzzled man, still half-buzzed with exhaustion finally asked.
Boy continued. I’m the human cannonball. A seasoned professional actually, and he pulled out a business card. I fly farther than any cannonball you see on account of the aerodynamics of my weight. Some may say I’m perfectly proportional.
Carrot? Asked the man.
And the Boy crunched down on a delicious carrot the size of his thumb, only longer. You may not know this dir sir, but if a man hides away in the womb for too long, growth reverses you see. I grew backward for three months.
Just then he sat up and waved his arms around his body, showing the man his stunted physic.
You know, the man said, then paused to chomp down on a carrot. Now speaking with a full mouth he continued. They say the same thing about the mind. If you stick around in a secluded place for too long.
Go-on, Boy beaconed.
Well, you lose touch with reality. Which, I must say, may be why I’ve let you in. Must be my subconscious acting for me again. Carrot?
And Boy crunched down on a carrot the size of his nose, only tinged with orange.