Ernst was on my bed, folding pairs of my jeans from a pile of laundry when I entered my bedroom, wanting to just be alone and have peace and quiet. After my early afternoon in Toledo and finding out very little useful information from Andrew, I wanted to go home and just think. Ernst or any of the little Kobolds being on my bed would distract from that activity. When I entered the room, a freshly purchased cup of coffee from a coffee joint in Toledo in hand, Ernst started at my appearance. He began folding the jeans quickly, obviously about to make a quick run for it.
“Once you’ve been seen it’s easier to be caught in the act again?” I couldn’t help but chuckle as I went over to the bedside table to place my wallet and keys.
Ernst was frantically finishing the folding of my pants.
“I dunno know, sir.” He squeaked.
I rolled my eyes at the title.
“Don’t call me that,” I said evenly. “My name is Rob. Or even Robbie. Don’t call me ‘sir’, okay?”
He didn’t respond verbally but he nodded frantically. I sat down gently on the bed beside him. He barely made a dent in the bed where he stood. I watched as Ernst folded pants, watching me out of the corner of his eye yet pretending that he didn’t know I was there. He was shaky and nervous, and I couldn’t blame him after what I had inadvertently done the previous night. The guilt was rising up as I watched him do his, chores, I supposed. I reached out to grab a piece of clothing to help and Ernst jumped. He topped over, falling to his ass on the bed in a tangle of gangly limbs as a t-shirt fluttered down to cover him as he lay there.
Not that I wanted to, but I found myself laughing. It was quite a sight seeing something, er, someone like Ernst fall out in such a way. Ernst looked ridiculous and comical, flailing wildly under my t-shirt as though he expected something or, more specifically, someone (like me) to attack him at any moment. I felt guilty that he was obviously assuming I meant him harm, and for having harmed him the night before, but the whole thing was ridiculous. Reaching out, I gently pulled the t-shirt off of Ernst, disentangling him from the fabric. Ernst jumped to his feet and moved to the foot of the bed quickly, getting out of arm’s reach.
“I wasn’t going to hurt you.” I held the t-shirt up. “I was just going to help you fold the laundry.”
Ernst eyeballed me suspiciously. Instead of saying anything else, I began folding the shirt. Then I laid it down and grabbed another to fold. Ernst watched me for a moment, his body language indicating his desire to flee. After three more shirts, Ernst expression turned from fear to that of concern and annoyance. I continued folding laundry from the pile.
“No, no, no.” He stomped over and swatted the shirt out of my hand. “You’re doin’ it all wrong, sir. ‘Tis a disgrace. Haven’t ya’ ever folded laundry for yourself before?”
I smiled as he proceeded to show me the proper way to fold a shirt.
“I usually hang my clothes up in the closet at home.” I laughed. “Except for my underwear and socks, that is.”
“Well, I can tell.” He shook his head as he started in refolding the pile I had made. “These won’t do at all, sir. There are certain ways things should be done and this innit it.”
“Please call me Rob or Robbie.”
Ernst looked pensive as he folded a shirt.
“That’s not the way things are done either.” He barked.
“Well, then just don’t call me ‘sir’, please.”
“You’re the master of the house are you not?” He scoffed. “It wouldn’t be prudent to call ya’ anything but ‘sir’ now would it, sir?”
“This is my Oma’s house.” I frowned. “I’m just visiting. So, as a guest, you don’t have to call me ‘sir’, do you?”
Ernst continued folding as his brow furrowed.
“I’m sorry I hurt you last night, Ernst,” I said, wondering how I could be so comfortable sitting there next to a mythological creature and act so calm about it. “It was entirely unintentional. I swear.”
“T’weren’t nothin’.” He sniffed haughtily.
Obviously, this was a sore spot for his ego.
“Well, I’m sorry.” I reiterated and moved on. “And thank you for doing my laundry while I’ve been here.”
Ernst’s brow furrowed even more deeply as he folded the clothes. He looked troubled by our interaction. I stood, which made Ernst fold slowly at alert as he watched me out of the corner of his eye. I pulled my wallet out of my pocket, along with my cell phone and keys and put them on the bedside table. I kicked off my shoes and carried them over to the closet to stow them away in an orderly fashion. Then I took off my coat and hung it in the closet as well. Ernst quietly watched me the entire time.
“Oma said there are some of your, um, friends, or family around here with you?” I asked. “She said there are other, uh, Kobolds, here?”
Ernst averted his eyes and went back to his folding.
“Yes…yes.”
He didn’t call me by name, but he dropped the ‘sir’ shit. That was good enough for me. For now.
“Who are the others, then?” I asked as I went into the bathroom and turned the tap on the sink faucet for warm water. “Are they your family, or…?”
“No,” Ernst replied hesitantly. “They be my kinfolk, true. But we aren’t all exactly brothers and sisters if ya’ understand my meaning.”
I made a noise that I understood as I ran a washcloth under the water and began to wash my face. Ernst was in my peripheral vision, standing on the bed, folding clothes, as I washed my face at the sink.
“Well, there’s Hans.” Ernst began tentatively. “You’d mostly find him tinkering around’, fixin’ things that get broke. Lena likes to do the dishes and work in the garden. Then Felix mos’ly sticks to the attic and the walls, patchin’ up drafts and the like. Oskar likes to do sweepin’ and moppin’ and general scrubbin’. Hans, well, he mos’ly keeps to ‘imself and just does whatever he feels needs to be done. You won’ see him ‘bout much due to the fact that he’s a miserable piece o’ work.”
“And you like doing laundry,” I added.
“Well, it keeps me busy, I spose.” Ernst said noncommittally.
“Out of trouble?” I teased, glancing over as I washed the day’s grime off of my mug.
“There’s always time for that.” Ernst chuckled mischievously. “Though the chores tend to keep us busy.”
“Why did…whomever…make me jump in the lake the other night?” I asked, frowning as I finished cleaning off my face. “That wasn’t exactly the nicest thing to do to someone who hadn’t done anything to any of you up until that point.”
Of course, I had blasted Ernst ass into the Oma’s bathroom, but that was after I had jumped in the lake.
“T’wasn’t us.” Ernst snapped. “None of us would do such a thing. We may get up to some’tings but we ain’t done that.”
I hung the washcloth on the rack by the sink and turned off the water. Patting my face dry with the towel hung on the back of the door, then hanging it back up, I went and leaned against the doorjamb to look at Ernst. He ignored me as he finished folding up clothes.
“Someone who looked like me jumped in the lake the other night,” I said. “If it wasn’t one of you, who was it?”
“I wouldn’t be knowin’.” Ernst shrugged his tiny shoulders.
I decided to let it go.
“Been sleepin’ at your feet since you was a wee’un, wouldn’ta done nothin’ to put you in much danger,” Ernst stated casually as he leaped down from the bed.
He used his wee arms to reach up blindly and grab stacks of clothes, then went to the dresser and began stuffing them into drawers. Ernst looked like a mountain climber, stepping on knobs to get to higher drawers and struggling to open drawers to shove clothes into, working blindly but well. I walked over and helped open drawers and put away clothes. Ernst barely came up to mid-thigh on me when he was finally standing on the floor beside me.
Kobolds were unique looking little people and absolutely precious in size. I wanted to snatch him up like a dog and snuggle him, but I figured that would garner more anger. Besides, that would be admitting that I was perfectly comfortable with these mythical creatures roaming about the house in the shadows, and I wasn’t certain I was there yet. It was still incredibly odd that all of these odd and magical things happened at Oma’s house daily—and in Point Worth in general—and I was just becoming aware of it. If I hadn’t gone on a date with Andrew, I probably would have never known.
If you hadn’t come home to Point Worth to rest up, you’d never have known.
“Sir?” Ernst looked up at me curiously, realized his mistake, and corrected himself. “Guest of the house?”
“Rob, Ernst.” I smiled weakly. “Please.”
“Won’t be doin’ no such thing.” He sniffed. “I’ll call you ‘master’ if that’s better, seein’s you are the madam’s grandson.”
“Fine.” I cringed. “Call me ‘sir’ if you have to.”
He smiled widely. “What’s troublin’ you, sir?”
“I don’t know, Ernst,” I answered honestly. “I just don’t know why this place is so familiar and not familiar at all.”
“This place?”
“Oma’s house.” I shrugged. “Point Worth. It’s like I don’t know this place at all anymore. Not that I ever did, I guess.”
“Awh, hogwash.” He slapped both hands in the air in my direction. “You just been gone a’bit s’all.”
“I guess.”
“Wouldja like a cuppa tea?” He suggested eagerly. “I’ll get Lena to make ya’ one ya’ like?”
“I have coffee.” I shook my head. “But thank you. And I don’t need all of you doing things for me.”
“Kinda the thing, innit?” He headed towards the door. “We get to live ‘ere and you get your chores done. Fair trade.”
He turned in the doorway to look at me.
“Ya’ need anythin’ you just let me know.” He jabbed a thumb into his chest. “I know the ins and outs of this house better’in the rest of ‘em.”
I nodded, looking down at my feet.
“What’s botherin’ ya’ now?” He threw his hands up in the air.
I looked up at Ernst.
“I don’t know where I belong, Ernst,” I said lowly.
Why was I being so honest with…well, a Kobold…of all people?
“Well, I says if you don’t know where ya’ should be, ya’ should just stick where ya’ are.” He gave a firm nod. “No point in runnin’ ‘round like an idjit if you dunno what you’re lookin’ for, right?”
I smiled.
“’Sides…one place is as good as any. Longs ya’ got good food, a good bed, and someone to care for ya’.” He grinned proudly.
Obviously, Ernst, and probably the other Kobolds I hadn’t met yet, took a lot of pride in the place that they called home.
“That’s good advice, Ernst,” I said. “Thank you. And you can sleep in the bed if you want, but try to crawl in before the lights go out. When I’m drifting off to sleep and feel you crawl into bed, it’s a little jarring.”
The tips of Ernst’s ears, which I suddenly noticed were slightly pointed, like an elf, wiggled as he smiled up at me. It was precious, but I was smart enough to figure out that I probably shouldn’t mention such.
“Thank you for my laundry, Ernst.” I motioned vaguely at the dresser.
Ernst blushed and gave a slight bow of his head before he disappeared down the hallway. I shut my bedroom door and went to relax on the bed with my cup of hipster coffee. That was how I spent the rest of my afternoon, immersed in scrolling through my phone and sipping at my delicious store-bought coffee while the rest of the house silently existed around me. I didn’t see Ernst or any of the others for the rest of the afternoon and Oma didn’t come in to bother me either. It was a perfect afternoon.
Around five in the afternoon, Lucas texted, disturbing my immersive Pinterest experience—which I had just created an account—and told me that he was on his way over to Oma’s. The message was accompanied by smiley faces with hearts for eyes and a smiling face blowing a kiss. It was kind of cute but it also made my stomach sink. It was a little too familiar and presumptive. We hadn’t made plans to get together. We hadn’t even decided what it was we were really doing with each other. Was it too early in the relationship to be sending kissy faces and heart eyes?
When Lucas pulled up in the driveway, Oma was in the kitchen, banging around and fixing dinner—possibly with Lena assisting just out of sight?—and I was sitting on the porch in my heavier spring coat. Lucas’ truck slid to a stop in the slush at the end of the mostly cleared driveway, smiling at me through the windshield. I gave him a smile and waved as he put the truck into park and shut it off. Immediately, he was leaping out of the truck and practically skipping over to the porch. I stood from the chair and walked over to the steps to greet him. His arms immediately went around my middle as he ascended the steps to meet me, and he smothered my mouth with his.
Returning his kiss, I ran my fingers through his hair as his body melted into mine. My body wanted to react to his, but I held back, not wanting to make this meeting something that it wasn’t. Lucas must have sensed my reticence because when he pulled back from the lingering kiss, he had a confused smile affixed to his face. I let my fingers play in his hair for a moment before I spoke.
“We need to talk.”
His body deflated and he was frowning.
“This isn’t going to work out for you.” He stated blandly.
“That’s not what I was going to say.” I pressed my forehead to his.
Lucas closed his eyes gently as he held his forehead against mine. His whole body was somehow tense but also slumped against mine.
“I can feel you want to say something that is going to make me sad, though.” He whispered.
“You wouldn’t be much of a psychic otherwise.” I teased.
He opened his eyes and pulled back with a slight smile.
“I’m not psychic.”
I grinned.
“Just tell me.” He said.
“Before you come inside,” I grabbed his hands in mine and held them between us, “I just wanted to say that I want to be very clear about what this is and where it’s going.”
“Okay.”
“One, I don’t know what it is.” I shrugged, keeping my eyes on his. “Two, I just want you to know that it needs to slow down.”
“How is it going too fast?” He frowned pitifully.
“It’s going too fast because I’m working out who I am, Lucas,” I said. “How can I know what this is, what we are, if I don’t know who Robert Wagner is? I need you to give me space to figure that out before we dive into this head first. Is that okay?”
Lucas seemed to examine me for a few moments, his eyes on mine as we stood there, holding our hands between our bodies. Was he trying to see if there were any premonitions in that head of his?
“That’s okay.” He nodded.
I let a smile overtake my face.
“Good.” I leaned down to give him a quick kiss. “Because being boyfriends is okay. We don’t have to rush that, right?”
He grinned widely.
“Is that what this is?” He whispered, stepping up onto the porch in front of me. “We’re exclusive, babe?”
“Don’t push it.” I shook my head, amused.
“Well?”
I looked around.
“Who else am I trying to be with?” I relented.
“Ya’ know,” He laughed, “I’ll take it.”
“You’re so easy.”
“For you.”
“Lord.” I rolled my eyes. “Come in here and have dinner with us.”
Lucas chuckled as I drug him through the front door, both of us tangled up in each other’s arms. Once inside, Oma hollered that she was still working on dinner, so Lucas and I got a fire started and curled up on the couch together. And we just talked. Okay, maybe we kissed a bit, too, but we talked. Not about anything particularly important but we didn’t fill every moment with groping and kissing and lusting after each other. We acted like two adults trying to discover each other and decide if there was more between us than just how our bodies reacted to each other’s.
Dinner with Oma was a raucous affair, with Oma regaling us with stories about how proud she was when I was a teenager and acting in all the plays and doing solos in the choir. Lucas admitted how he always had eyes on me when we were in high school together, watching me, wondering if we could have ever been friends. I didn’t know any of those things about my Oma and my, I guess, now, boyfriend. I was an oblivious teenager, I guessed. Maybe I was a bit of a dick. Self-possessed and obsessed. My eyes had always been on the prize of leaving Point Worth.
And here I was sat, in Oma’s kitchen, not wanting to be anywhere else but with the two people I was with currently. I didn’t want to be in Hollywood. I didn’t want to be on set, shooting another movie, on another stage, performing another song. I just wanted peace and quiet and love. Becoming an adult and gaining experience changes priorities, gives credence to the simple things that youth takes for granted. When you get right down to it, being with people you actually like, or even love, and having a full belly, and a warm house, and not a care in the world beats fame and fortune hands down.
After dinner, Lucas and I spent a few minutes on the porch, kissing and acting as though we were the only two people in the world. Then I made him leave before I begged him to stay the night again. We didn’t have to have sex every day, sleep in each other’s beds every night. Space and time are what makes relationships grow stronger if they are meant to do so, after all. Proximity breeds familiarity, but longing to be with someone when they’re not near indicates how deep that love is. So, I sent Lucas on his way. And I was already missing him as I watched his truck drive away in the dark.
“Oma,” I announced as I entered the kitchen and leaned against the doorjamb.
A figure scurried away into the cabinet under the sink. Probably Lena. I looked over at the slightly ajar door and then back to Oma. She gave an innocent smile.
“I don’t want to go back to Hollywood.”
“Well,” Oma blinked a few times, “that’s something.”
“I want to stay here,” I said. “For now.”
Oma just stared at me.
“If that’s okay?”
“Of course, it is, Robbie.” She was gob smacked.
“Okay.” I nodded. “And I need space. And I need truth. So, tell…Lena…and the other Kobolds around here to stop scurrying around here like crazy and just do things like they would if I wasn’t here.”
Oma chewed at her lip. “Well, don’t bother them too much. They like their space, too, ya’ know.”
“I wasn’t planning on bothering them,” I replied. “I’m just tired of all of the shadowy creepy shit in my peripheral vision.”
She nodded.
“Are you a witch?”
Oma was blinking again.
“And is that what I am?” I asked. “Whatever the male version of that is, anyway? Is that why—is that why I am the way I am?”
“What do you mean by that, Robbie?” She frowned.
“I became Jacob Michaels so easily,” I said. “You should see me in an interview. I can charm the pants off a journalist or reporter, make a television host fall in love with me. Heads of studios and record labels—producers, directors, agents, managers—they adore me. I’m not that charming, but for some reason, people think I am. And I don’t even have to try. I was an ugly kid and then I hit puberty, the worst time in a kid’s life, and now…please tell me the truth.”
Oma sighed and set her dishtowel down on the counter, her arms coming to rest over her chest.
“You ain’t no witch.” She said. “You’re just Robert the youngest. You ain’t got no reason to think you’re a witch, Robbie.”
“But…I’m something,” I said softly. “Right?”
“You coulda been.” She said it as though it pained her. “But ya’ ain’t. So, just get that out of your head.”
“Why am I not?”
“I said just stop it.” She said firmly.
“Please, Oma?”
“Look here.” She pointed a finger at me. “You are just Robert Wagner. And that ain’t gonna change. Ya’ hear me? You want to stay here? Well, we’d love to have you. For as long as you like. But you drop that shit right here and now.”
“But—”
Oma stomped her foot. The walls shook. The house groaned. I should’ve been shocked. Instead, a tear slid down my cheek. I felt something inside of me, something in my chest that I couldn’t explain and didn’t have a name for at all. It felt like something was missing from me and I didn’t know what it would be.
“And you stay out of that goddamn cellar.” She frowned at me. “Ain’t nothin’ in there for you.”
I nodded. Oma gave a sharp nod and went to pick up her dish towel.
“You know you’re eventually going to tell me, right?” I reached up to wipe the tear off of my cheek. “You’re just delaying the inevitable. The only thing I don’t know is why, Oma.”
“Robbie,” She growled, “I’m sick of this shit. You’re not here for none of that. And I won’t hear it. Fine. You know about Ernst and the rest. That’s good enough. You leave the rest of that be! I want you to tell me you understand what the fuck I’m sayin’ to you.”
“But why?”
“Why does it matter?” She waggled her head. “When have I ever led you astray, Robbie? Trust that I know what’s best.”
I wanted to spit out some retort about something awful Oma had done to me that had caused me grief in the past. But, when I thought about it, there was absolutely nothing. Oma was right. She had always done right by me.
“Fine.”
“Good.” She gave that sharp nod again. “Now, do you want to wash or dry?”
I laughed wetly, my eyes shiny with unshed tears.
“Dry.” I shrugged. “I guess.”
“Well, get over here and make yourself useful.”