Sleeping In

Most days, the alarms went off at five in the morning.

Mornings after a show, everyone got to sleep in. For Electra, this meant waking up about ten minutes after five. It was just how she was. Eyes popped open and she got up.

She knew that Conrad was going to be sleeping until about nine, nine-thirty, unless someone set off explosives.

She put on her swimsuit, grabbed a beach towel and started climbing up out of her aquarium.

They had three tanks set up for the three sylphs now living in this condo. All were inter-connected by stairs, ladders and slides.

She got to the top of the ladder and looked over at her owner’s bed. She expected to see him sleeping and hear him snoring.

Delli described the sound as demonic, Cher as seismic shifting, but after eleven years in the man’s bedroom, it was just background noise to Electra.

Except the bed was empty. She just then noticed the silence.

Where the hell was Conrad? She turned on the catwalk and started jogging. The windows in this bedroom faced North. The tanning shelf was down one floor and on the far side of the living room, facing South.

If Conrad wasn’t here, he was probably there. In fact, as she went through the tunnel through the wall, she could hear the television.

The catwalk continued across the wall to the stairs. Two slides were run down that wall, she chose the one without loops. It was less fun, but faster.

Soon she was rolling across the mat at the bottom. Conrad was wrapped in a blanket, watching an infomercial.

Electra ran across the floor to the springboard beside the sofa. A bounce took her to the cushion, she flipped up onto the armrest and jumped to the end table.

Then she was at his elbow. “Infomercial? Are you punishing yourself for something?”

“Hi. Nah. Just don’t care. Did I wake you?”

“No,” she said. She looked at his face as it peeked out of the wrapping he’d made. “You look tired.”

“Ugh,” he said. “No one says you look tired unless you look like death warmed over.”

“Uh huh,” she agreed.

“I, uh, may have a fever.”

“What did you take for it?” she asked. She always asked, though she knew he never took anything. It was part of the ritual.

“Nothing,” he said. He sounded defensive. “I’m not that bad.”

“You have a fever and you can’t sleep. If it’s a cold, take something and sleep it off.”

“I can’t sleep,” he pointed out.

“Take. Something. For. That. TOO!” she said slowly.

He sneezed. He managed to cover his mouth with his hand, but snot splashed everywhere. Electra noticed that he and his blanket were both pretty sparkly from previous sneezes.

“Ew. Gross. Conrad, I don’t want you to touch me until you get over this.”

“Tomorrow,” he said.

“TAKE SOMETHING!” she shouted. “Seriously, if you plan to touch me in the next two days…”

“Okay, okay, okay,” he muttered. He stood and limped over to the stairs.

She flipped backwards, then down to the floor and ran. The chairlift cable was spooling through the pulleys. She wondered who’d left it on.

For now, she just sat in one of the chairs. Her weight dragged it into contact with the cable and she was off.

Even with his head start, she passed him on the stairs. He looked even more ragged in motion.

At the top, she went down the fireman’s pole to the floor and ran into the bathroom.

“I’m going to hurl,” he said, moving faster.

She ran out of the bathroom. He staggered in and shut the door. She listened to the sound of him losing at least one meal, her heart aching for the poor guy.

Water ran in the sink and she thought she heard a washcloth over his face.

Then she heard the medicine cabinet door open, some bottles drop, some pills rattle…

He came out, didn’t look down at her and wobbled into the master bedroom. He didn’t climb into bed as much as fall with cushioned intent. By the time Electra was on the headboard, he was asleep.

“Poor baby,” she said softly.

“Baby? You mean demonic infestation of Castle Hill Avenue!” Delli shouted from the ladder of her tank.

“He’s sick!” Electra shouted back.

“Oh. Okay,” Delli said sympathetically. “POOR LITTLE demonic infestation of Castle Hill Avenue, saints above preserve us from his snores!”

“It’s not that bad,” Electra said, though weakly. Behind her, Conrad started to snore. “Usually,” she corrected.

-----

Electra was torn. She wanted to sunbathe, but now she didn’t want to be too far from Conrad.

She finally decided that she couldn’t do all that much for him and split the difference. The window sill in the spare bedroom hadn’t been customized for sunning, but it was on the same floor.

She went down to the floor and made her way across to that room.

There were no catwalks in there, yet. Conrad had place a higher priority on connecting the master bedroom and the kitchen.

Getting to the sill was accomplished by stages, swinging from the curtains to the spare bed, jumping to the nightstand, springing to the sill.

Which was the point she realized her suntan lotion was downstairs on the tanning shelf. And her towel was probably on the armrest of Conrad’s easy chair.

“Fuck it,” she said. She went back to the master bedroom and took a pillow to the headboard of Conrad’s bed. She sat there, watching over him and considering her ‘lesson learned’ notes from the previous night’s show.

After half an hour, she looked up as the sound of his breathing changed. She saw Delli down on Conrad’s pillow, poking his nose with a marking pen.

“Let him sleep!” Electra whispered urgently.

“I don’t think it’s possible to wake him,” Delli shouted back. She poked the nose harder, throwing her weight into it. He slept on. “Drugged off his skull,” she said.

“Why do you have a marking pen, Delli?” Electra asked. She still whispered. It had nothing to do with his state, it was just habit around a sleeping giant.

“Something I’ve always wanted to do,” was the reply. She held the pen between her legs and wrestled the cap off. Then she hopped up onto Conrad’s skull.

“He’ll wipe you off!” Electra protested. She was afraid he’d swat her like a mosquito. No matter how indulgent the owner, human reflexes had not had time to evolve sylph-friendly responses.

She watched, horrified and anxious.

Delli drew an arrow on his cheek, pointing to his nose. Then she wrote ‘din hole’ backwards. “So even Conrad can read it in the mirror.”

“He’s never going to take medication ever again!” Electra moaned. “Even when he really needs it!”

“Yeah, but I’ve waited, like FOREVER to do this!” Delli giggled and jumped down. She replaced the cap and shouldered the pen, running to the edge of the mattress.

Cher stepped up behind Electra. “She has. She sometimes gets up at night to stare down at him.”

“Oh, God, he’s going to be sick and miserable and THEN see this and feel sick and miserable and put upon.”

“And that’s her point,” he replied. “WE are certainly put upon by his snoring.”

“You guys want to sleep in the living room?”

“I just want him to see someone,” Cher said. “Do a sleep study, get a machine or something.”

“See someone?” Electra cried. “It almost took an act of God for him to take a cold remedy!”

“You may have a point, there,” he was forced to admit.

Delli joined them. “So, what did he take, anyway? I’ve never seen him so out of it.”

“I don’t know.”

“Then when will he be getting up?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Then… When’s dinner?” Cher asked.

“I couldn’t tell you,” Electra said miserably. She sat on the edge of the headboard, looking down at her favorite owner, willing him to get better.

The other two sat down beside her.

Lunch was snacks from the set. Cher went to get them, allowing Electra to stay near their owner.

He came back with four snacks, two poppers and two chips. “I distinctly asked for-“ Delli started to say.

“These are all that’s in there,” he snapped. “When’s the last time we stocked the set kitchen?”

“Um…” The other two said in chorus.

“Okay, then, let’s hope he wakes for dinner.”

He took one snack and dropped the other three. They watched him walk off to his tank.

“Which do you want?” Delli asked.

“I don’t care,” Electra said. “Everything we stock is off a list I wrote, so I’m happy with it.”

“Okay,” Delli said, making her choice.

The day passed slowly. Delli wandered off after an hour. She offered to bring a scroll and a reader over, but Electra wasn’t interested. She was trying to sense anything coming off her master, as a good familiar should.

Whatever he had, she wasn’t getting his dreams or emotions. But she also wasn’t getting any of his misery, so that might be a good thing.

She sat near the edge and stared. Then she started to doze. Twice, she woke up just as she started to lose her balance. She got up each time, walking around the board, doing some exercises to energize herself.

But then she’d be back at her spot over his head, watching.

The third time, she didn’t wake up in time. She rolled over the edge and was falling before she was aware of it. She woke to a firm forehead rushing up at her.

She screamed, sharp and shrill. Conrad jerked to the side, reaching for her tank by the bed.

Electra fell into his pillow, going limp and folding into the cushion. Suddenly, she was afraid of being under his head.

“Conrad! Don’t lay down!” she cried. The pillow popped back up into shape and she slid down to the sheet.

Conrad was rubbing his eyes. “How long was I out?” he asked. He answered his own question by looking at the alarm clock. “Oh CRAP!” He threw himself out of the bed and grabbed a robe.

“I’m so, so, sorry guys,” he said. “I’ll call someone. You guys want pizza? Chinese? Indian?”

“How are you doing?” Electra asked him.

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “But you guys must be starving. I’ll never take two cold remedies, never again.” He knotted his robe shut and looked for sylphs. “What’ll it be?”

“The Golden Dragon has the fastest response time,” Cher offered. No one protested. Conrad nodded and went for the kitchen. He already knew the sylphs had agreed upon teriyaki beef slivers for any time he ordered Chinese.

“Huh,” Electra said. “Jumps out of bed and his first thought is for his obligation to his pets.”

“I’ll take full responsibility,” Delli said from the catwalk.

“That much we knew,” Cher snorted.

“And I’ll apologize,” Delli went on.

“That much we knew,” Electra said. She headed for the tanks.

“And… I’ll wear clothes when he asks… For a month.”

“Maybe,” Cher said, “you wear clothes until he says he forgives you.”

“It IS Conrad we’re talking about,” Electra sighed. “There’s a good chance he’ll admire the prank more than it angers him.”

------

“That must have been very tempting,” Conrad said as he scrubbed his cheek. “I don’t know that I could have resisted it, either.”

‘See?’ Electra mouthed silently to Cher. She couldn’t talk to Delli that way, the woman was laying prostrate on the counter, face to the Formica.

Their owner finished scrubbing, rinsed and examined the results. He sighed. “Well, it’ll make a funny story at work.”

He turned to look down on his sylphs, winking at Electra and Cher, before reaching to pick Delli up. He pinched her his between thumb and finger, scowled, and dangled her before his face.

“At least, SOME people will laugh. Like they used to laugh in school when I tried to dance.”

“Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you as a master, Mister Conrad, sir?” was her reply. “You’re tolerant, and funny, and tolerant, and forgiving… And funny.”

He laughed and carried her out to the bedroom. On the way, he shifted her to sitting on his palm.

“Is it that bad?” he asked her. “I mean, seriously?”

Behind him, the other sylphs scrambled down the ladder to the floor.

“So, what can we do?” he asked. “Soundproof the tanks? Move the tanks? Move AND soundproof the tanks?”

“Not that I don’t simply adore having roommates,” Delli said, “you probably wouldn’t mind a bit more privacy, would you?”

“Me?”

“You and miss Electra, mister Master, sir.”

“Jesus, fuck, Ghirardelli, PLEASE call me Conrad.”

“Yes, sir.” He sat on the bed and placed her on the nightstand.

“I suppose we can-“ He was interrupted by the doorbell.

“Food’s here,” Delli said. “His car’s idling in the driveway.”

Conrad stood. “Five bucks says he laughs in my face,” he wagered, brushing his decorated cheek.

“I don’t have five bucks!” Delli protested.

“Okay, loser has to do the dishes tonight,” he shrugged. He stepped carefully to the stairs, noting Electra and Cher’s location as he passed.

The sylphs ran for the slides.

-----

“He didn’t even blink,” Conrad complained once more at the dinner table. He fished slices of onion, green pepper and mushroom out of his pepper steak, placing them on a plate by the beef skewers. Then he stared at his food, picking at it. Finally he pushed the plate away.

“You have to eat,” Electra said.

“I know… But I’m not really hungry.”

“You slept the whole day,” she pointed out. “Eat something. Pick the beef out, if you want.”

“I’m a little nauseous,” he said.

His sylph concentrated for a moment. “No, you’re not,” she declared.

“Well…” he paused.

“Oh, for the love of all that’s chocolate covered,” Delli snapped. She stood up from the little table to walk over to Conrad’s elbow. “The Golden Dragon serves the fraternities and dorms of two colleges. The driver’s surely seen MUCH worse and weirder. AND you’re probably listed as a good tipper.

“When you show up at the studio, people will see your face and burst out laughing. And it’ll be at YOUR JOKE because you stopped washing before it was gone.

“And,” she continued, “when you tell the story, with the embellishments and the funny voices, people will laugh even louder.”

“You think?” he asked.

“I know. You’re a funny guy and you tell funny stories well. And, Conrad, whatever you say about how you punished me, I will not quibble or argue or tell tales out of school. Okay?”

“Okay,” he said with a nod. He pulled the plate back to him. “Maybe some of the beef…”

After dinner, Conrad removed the skewers and cut up the remaining beef. He put those in the sylphbox, a small access port in the fridge door.

When he did, he realized no food had been left where the sylphs could reach it.

“Did you guys go all day without food?”

“Nearly,” Electra said. “We emptied the snacks in the set kitchen.”

“Damn,” he muttered. “Okay, let me get dressed and we’ll make a quick run to the supermarket.” He walked up the stairs, about half his usual speed.

When the sylphs ran into the room, he was curled up on the bed, shivering, still wearing his robe and sweat pants.

“Conrad? You okay?” Electra asked.

“Chills. I c-c-c-can’t take the rrrrrrobe off.”

“We could probably survive another day with what’s in the house,” Cher offered.

“There’s no chocolate,” Delli pointed out to the hairdresser. “You do KNOW there’s no chocolate left, right?”

“I said survive, not thrive,” Cher said.

“Okay,” Conrad said. He surged to his feet, sagged for a moment, then grabbed pants and shirt and stumbled to the bathroom.

“Is it warmer on a tile floor?” Electra called. He ignored her. They just made it through the door before he closed it.

They stood by the clothes hamper and watched him turn on the shower. He didn’t stand in it, though, just leaned on the counter. The steam from the shower filled the room quickly.

“Why isn’t the fan on?” Cher asked.

“He’s making a sauna,” Delli said. “Old Pilgrim trick.”

“What?” Cher asked her.

She shrugged. “Seems like something Conrad would say.”

When the room was warm from the steam, Conrad took off his robe and sweats and put on street clothes. “Okay,” he said, turning off the water. “Let’s go to Albertson’s.”

“Conrad, you don’t have to do this!” Electra shouted.

He knelt down by where the sylphs waited. “I have to take care of you guys. Responsibility doesn’t go away when I’m sick.”

“But you ARE sick!” she said. “Someone should be taking care of you. We can’t do that, so you have to.”

“Take care of yourself, sir,” Delli said. “Seriously, in the long run, we’re better off if you do. I’m sorry about the chocolate comment.”

“What chocolate comment? There’s no chocolate? Get in the car! STAT!”

“Not helping,” Cher told Delli.

“Look, just go to bed,” Electra told her owner. “If you feel better at, I dunno, midnight? We can go to the 24-hour Safeway.”

“I really appreciate the support,” he said, rocking back on his heels. “But the fact is, I want soup and grilled cheese sandwiches right now more than I want anything else in the world.

“But we haven’t got any soup or cheese in the house. And the bread is all hamburger buns. I was thinking, I could just casually pick some things up while I was being a big sylph hero and saving the day.

“But fact is, I AM going to the store, to take care of myself, and I am quite willing to take care of you guys, too.”

The four of them stared at each other for a few seconds.

“My hero,” Electra said.

“Okay,” Cher said, “but food, snacks, soup, some more cold remedy potions and that’s IT! In, out, back in bed before the pillow gets cold.”

“I’m okay with that,” Conrad nodded.

“And dress warm!” Delli shouted. “And drive carefully! And don’t wander randomly across the cookie aisle!”

“All the chocolate’s in the cookie aisle,” Conrad said.

“I said not RANDOMLY! This is more of a surgical strike.”

“I’ll make a shopping list,” Conrad nodded. Then he held his hands out. “Or just carry one.”

-----

On the way to the store, Conrad sneezed on his hands, on his sleeves, on the steering wheel and the driver’s side window.

The sylphs crouched in the sylph mount and kept muttering, “Who thought this was a good idea?” to each other.

Once he was parked, the only cleaning aid he could find were wipes for his glasses. He laboriously cleaned his area, then his hands, before picking his pets up and lowering them into his jacket pocket.

Inside, the first thing he picked up were packs of handi-wipes.

No one protested this unplanned purchase.

In the sylph aisle, he seemed to grab anything that was packaged in primary colors and threw them in the cart.

Each his passengers saw at least one preferred snack go by, so they were quiet here, too.

He got to the soup aisle and stood in front of the Campbell’s display for a long, quiet time.

“Conrad?” Electra called. “Are you trying to decide on a flavor? Or did you forget what we’re doing in the soup aisle?”

“Chicken Noodle!” Cher shouted. Conrad reached for a can.

“Tomato!” Delli shouted. “Tomato goes with grilled cheese.”

“We need cheese!” Conrad said.

“And we’ll get it,” Electra said reassuringly. “Get a can of Chicken and a can of Tomato while we’re here.”

“Okay.” He took two of each flavor they shouted.

He balked at getting American cheese, but they couldn’t find sliced cheddar. Electra assured him that shredded cheddar would melt just as well on a grilled cheese. He trusted her implicitly and took the bag she pointed him to.

“Who’s driving us home?” Cher muttered.

“He’ll be fine,” Electra said. “He’ll be fine, he’ll be fine, he’ll be fine…”

“Amen,” Delli said.

He grabbed a loaf of bread at the end of the bakery and headed for the pharmacy.

“Should we tell him he just got wheat?” Delli asked softly.

“It’s better for him,” Electra replied just as softly.

Near as anyone could tell, he grabbed cold remedies by packaging, too. “Think he’s going for a rainbow cart?” Cher mused.

The cashier recognized him as a frequent shopper and tried to engage in conversation. Then she scanned four boxes of cold and allergy medication.

“Oh,” was all she said. She looked at him, leaned over and snapped her fingers in front of his face.

At the third snap, he reared back, eyes wide, confused.

“I don’t suppose any of you sylphs have a driver’s license?” she asked.

Suddenly, Conrad stood up straight. “No need. I’ve got this, Alyssa.”

“What?” The cashier waved her hand back and forth. He followed it with his eyes, no problem.

“I’m fine. I got my second wind. “It’s just a touch of flu. Chills come and go, fever comes and goes, brain dead zombie mode comes and goes.”

“If you’re sure…” she said slowly.

“We’ll be fine. It’s only about half a mile.” He helped bag the purchases.

In his pocket, Delli grabbed Cher’s arm and urgently whispered. “What the fuck is going on? I thought he was going to wrap us around a tree!”

“I dunno!” he protested. “Electra?” There was no response from the other sylph.

He turned to find her curled up in the bottom of the pocket. “Electra?”

Conrad smiled at the manager and pushed the cart out to the car. Once he was outside, he became less animated, though. He didn’t smile or nod to any of the few people they passed at this hour.

“Conrad? Are you okay?” Cher called.

“Shh. Concentrating,” he said. He loaded the car, carefully put the cart in the corral, then drove home at just under the speed limit.

He got all the bags into the house in one trip, though the locked front door nearly defeated him.

Cher and Delli were lowered to the table very gently, then he put stuff away. Sylph snacks were left on the table where the pets could reach them.

Finally he sat down, carefully lifted Electra out of his pocket and held her, cupped in both hands.

“Okay,” he said. “Thanks.” Then his eyes dulled and his shoulders slumped. Electra stood up and stretched as one rising from sleep.

She looked around the kitchen and smiled. “It worked!”

“Are you TRYING to get us burned as witches!?!” Delli hissed at her. “This is IDAHO! Those parts of the population who don’t still think sylphs are a communist plot think we’re Satanic!”

“But we’re not wrapped around a tree,” Cher said. He lifted Electra down from their owner’s hands. He turned to shout up at the nodding head. “Maybe you should go to bed, sir!”

“Take off the jacket, first!” Electra yelled.

He coughed, grabbed two boxes of medicine and stumbled of to the stairs.

Behind him, Electra sank to sit on the table. “I am exHAUST-“ she started to say, then she sneezed.

She sneezed four times in a row, her head knocking back further each time.

The other two stared at her. She couldn’t have caught Conrad’s cold. It was a bedrock understanding in the world, things that affected sylphs and things that affected humans could not bridge the size gap.

When she stopped sneezing, she cuddled her arms to her chest. “I’m cold!” she said, in the tone of one surprised and offended by the fact.

As they stared, a giant hand descended to wrap itself around Electra. She sank into the warmth radiating from the skin.

“Do you guys want a ride?” Conrad asked. Cher shook his head.

Delli pointed to the case of poppers. “Food,” she said. Conrad nodded and headed for the stairs again. Electra sneezed twice more before they heard the bedroom door shut.

“We have to get alcohol into this place,” Cher said.

“Uh huh,” Delli nodded. She grabbed the sylph tab and opened the case. Taking two bags, she turned to the ladder. “In the meantime, I’m going to go pick out the new spot for my tank.”

“You think he’s going to let us decide?” Cher asked.

“Even if he doesn’t love us as much as Electra,” she said, “he’s going to indulge us to show Electra, who he loves, how much he loves her friends.”

“Cynical,” Cher nodded, ambling along after her. “I like it.”

“Not a bit!” she said, starting down the ladder. “I am certain that he will eventually love us almost that much. But for now, he loves us through Electra. And that’s sweet, not cynical.”

“Maybe,” he allowed.

---------

In the bathroom, Conrad finished drinking the medication and put the bottle back in the medicine cabinet.

He worked one-handed, as Electra shivered in his other fist. “Why can’t I have any?” she asked. “I can figure a sylph dose!”

“It’s not that,” he said. “You don’t have a cold. Right now, YOU are suffering from MY cold. Or flu or whatever it is. So drugs are only going to work on my cold.”

“Maybe,” she muttered. “I’m still chilly.”

“All in due time,” he said. He slid her into a dress sock and laid her on one pillow. Crawling into bed beside her, he tucked himself firmly under the blankets.

He drew her close, pillow and all.

They were asleep in minutes.



-----
Index