The Boy who Survived a Paper Cut
Something peculiar was bound to happen on Picket Drive that day. You could sense it in the air; there just was this feeling, like a vibe. It was one of those days that look like they're supposed to be warm and crisp, but when you go outside to play you feel like you've been gypped because no matter where you stand, you never seem to be able to get enough warmth from the sun and end up shivering in your shorts.
There were precisely seven condominium complexes on Picket Drive, each with the same wilted front yard and the same painfully white picket fence out front. In one of these condominiums, #4 Picket Drive, Apartment 3, there was a loud ruckus emerging from within.
"Quit your racket you spoiled bastards!" Old Lady Lily of #4 Picket Drive, Apartment 2, screamed. No one paid her any heed. Lady Lily was always screaming inappropriate derogatory terms to everyone at all hours of the day and night, causing more of a ruckus than the party of #4 Picket Drive, Apartment 3, was anyway. Old Lady Lily must have once been pretty. One could see that at once, even if they had only stolen a quick glance at her. Perhaps there was nothing left of her once curvy, voluptuous figure, and her skin was beginning to sag with old age, but those eyes, oh those Spanish eyes that had once had every man in the entire county under a spell. Her eyes were huge, with long eyelashes and a sad, desperate, lonely look to them. Another beautiful thing about her was her hair. She refused to become one of those old ladies that live in retirement homes with short, frizzy perms; one of those old ladies whose biggest thrills and accomplishments in life are winning Saturday Night Bingo. Instead, her hair was of shining silver, long and thick and shimmering and she was always speaking of magic and spells and muttering under her breath about her husband, the late Johnny Connelly. The neighborhood gossip said that when her husband died, her sanity went with it. 'She's insane,' they said, 'She belongs in a mental institution,' they suggested.
Lily Potter, Old Lady Lily's daughter, lived with her husband, James, her son, Harry, and her nephew, Perry Hotter, the son of the late Ylile Hotter, at #4 Picket Drive, Apartment 3. She was quite a beauty, even at the age of 36. She had inherited her mother's eyes and had a slim athletic figure.
That day Lily Potter was busy in the kitchen, the place that she loved the most, and her son, Harry was doodling away, sulking, as he usually was.
"Don't you care about anything, you insolent little boy? Today is your cousin's 11th birthday and you have no present for him, no song! I've put up with enough of this behavior!" Lily cried, obviously impatient.
"But mother. You've forgotten, we have the same birthday- it's my birthday too." Harry replied.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!!!!!!!!" Harry was interrupted by his mother's loud, booming song voice just as Perry walked into the room. All of Perry's friends popped out and they gobbled up cake and ice cream, threw around toy guns, and just had plain old fun. Harry's parents had asked him if he wanted to invite any of his friends to Perry's party, but he declined, mostly because he didn't have any. "Say cheese!" Uncle James squeaked. His voice had never really changed during puberty. Actually, puberty didn't really affect him at all. He stood scrawny at a 4ft., 9in. frame, with a voice like the tired rusty hinges of a door. A camera flashed twice.
"Harry, dear, would you please get out of the way so that our son.er.nephew, can get his birthday pictures taken?" Harry quietly shuffled to the corner, his own birthday forgotten.
Later that night as Harry laid in his bunk bed, listening to Perry snoring contentedly on the bed above him; he noticed something queer fluttering out of the corner of his eye. It seemed to be dragging something with immense effort. It made the strangest humming noise as it dropped a letter in through the open window.
"Perry, look! Check out this weird letter! I think a hummingbird delivered it!" Harry shouted to Perry, grabbing the letter from the window still.
"Shut up, Harry!" Perry mumbled, throwing a pillow at Harry.
"No, I'm serious, Perry, check this out! It's addressed to you." Harry said after dodging the pillow with incredible expertise that came from years of living next door to Old Lady Lily. Harry waved the letter above his head enthusiastically, making him look like a bona fide idiot.
"Alright, if it'll make you be quiet, I'll take a look." Perry said drowsily. Harry handed him the paper and Perry threw another pillow at Harry.
"Pigpimpleton? Is this your idea of a joke Harry? Waking me up in the middle of the night for this piece of.rubbish?"
"Well, fine then Perry, if you don't appreciate me waking you up for your letter, then I'll just take it!" Harry shouted at Perry. He snatched up the letter from the snoring Perry. Simultaneously, an incredibly tiny man less then two feet tall soared in through the open window making the polka dotted curtains flutter in the open wind.
"How dare ye touch Perry's letter!" the little man screamed at Harry in a high-pitched squeaky voice. Perry awoke with a start to the abrupt sound.
"Who the heck are you?" Perry nearly screamed at the top of his lungs to the stranger in his room.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Dirgah the Midget of the Land of the Wizards." The mysterious stranger said in a high, giddy voice so fast that it was nearly unintelligible. "I have arrived to take Perry Hotter of the Hotter Clan to Pigpimpleton."
"Hotter Clan.? Well I suppose that would be me." Perry said quietly.
"The time has come." Dirgah said grandly, placing emphasis on every word with colossal effort.
"Okay, I don't know what you're talking about, so you just run along like a good little delusional freak and I won't have to call the cops, 'kay?" Perry responded, the fear edging into his voice.
"The time for what?" Harry asked.
"Obviously! The time for you, Perry, to enter!"
"Enter what?"
"Pigpimpleton!" the midget said, exasperated and evidently frustrated with the boy's ignorance. Suddenly, Aunt Lily and Uncle James burst through the door.
"We heard a noise." Aunt Lily began.
"And rushed to see what happened." James finished.
"Are you alright darling?" Lily said with genuine concern.
"I'm just fine, mom!" Harry replied.
"Not you!" Lily said, "I meant Perry!" Lily and James were both experts when it came to finding good character and saw none in the pathetic Harry, but quite a bit in Perry, whose courageous actions had once given him his 15 minutes of fame and recognition on Picket Drive.
"He's fine." Harry mumbled, his face flushing with jealousy. Lily and James heard a sound, more of a squeak, actually- and they turned around to come face to face with Dirgah (Well, because of Dirgah's height, it was more like face to knee). Of course Lily and James, being the concerned guardians that they were, insisted on knowing what the tiny man was doing in Perry's room. And of course Perry and Harry had to give an explanation lengthy enough to satisfy both Lily and James. Dirgah, being as short as he was, was quite easily forgotten and wandered about the room, bored out of his wits, speaking every so often to his hummingbird. The hummingbird was really a pathetic thing, forced out of the nest by the other, stronger birds of the offspring. Nature had meant for it to die before he really had a chance to live, that is, until Dirgah walked along and decided to raise it. Dirgah had quite a touch with animals and particularly favored small and helpless ones, for he felt that he could relate to them. Its name was Reding, for unlike most of the birds of his species, he was not of many exotic colors, but a dark musky brownish- red.
Dirgah certainly was curious to find out who or what the loud, coarse, screams of Lady Lily were coming from. Lily, James, Harry and Perry paid no heed to the noise, as if they were used to it. Dirgah was not of a patient species, for midgets did everything at the same speed: fast. They spoke quickly, ate quickly, and slept a mere 3 hours a day.
"Have you individuals completed your never-ending task of conversing over unimportant issues yet?" Four pairs of eyes were staring at him. "For if you do not mind, I wish to simply whisk Perry to Pigpimpleton and leave as soon as possible."
"Perry? Leave-no sir, you must be mistaken," James cried, pleading almost.
Lily, the more practical one, asked questions first, "Pigpimpleton? What on earth is that? How can we trust you? For all we know, you are a crack head that has come to kidnap our dear Perry. And even if there is such a school, why would Perry abandon his dreams of Cambridge and medicine for your school of.."
"Magic." Dirgah interrupted. A ripple of gasps went about the room.
"I swore that when we took Perry in we would get rid of such ideas! I support a modest imagination, but I saw how my dear sister Ylile was corrupted, along with Lady Lily-she was in that house, what do you call it? Ah yes, Vuxunum- they taught her nothing but evil and that had ultimately led her toward her death, for the evil are easily wiped out with -what were they again?- oh yes, the evil are easily wiped out by paper cuts. Now it is obvious here that Perry has not an ounce of evil, for he has survived many a paper cut and."
"I'm afraid you are mistaken. Pigpimpleton teaches no such things. Ylile turning corrupt was What's-His-Face's doing, not Alvin Mumblefore's; for the headmaster of Pigpimpleston would never allow such a doing. Perry obviously belongs in Pelicenya, not Vuxunem like Ylile. As for Perry's immunity to paper cuts, that is another story."
I'm afraid it is you that are mistaken. Perry is not going with you now or ever."
"I'm afraid that's not your decision to make!!" Dirgah squeaked, trying to muster as much courage as possible.
"Do I have a say in this?" Perry interrupted sudden.
"Of course you do, Perry!!!" Uncle James replied, "The birthday boy gets whatever he pleases!!" James and Lily beamed proudly at their dear son- err. nephew.
But before Perry could reply, Dirgah whipped out a silver thimble, and suddenly, Perry and Dirgah disappeared into thin air.
Something peculiar was bound to happen on Picket Drive that day. You could sense it in the air; there just was this feeling, like a vibe. It was one of those days that look like they're supposed to be warm and crisp, but when you go outside to play you feel like you've been gypped because no matter where you stand, you never seem to be able to get enough warmth from the sun and end up shivering in your shorts.
There were precisely seven condominium complexes on Picket Drive, each with the same wilted front yard and the same painfully white picket fence out front. In one of these condominiums, #4 Picket Drive, Apartment 3, there was a loud ruckus emerging from within.
"Quit your racket you spoiled bastards!" Old Lady Lily of #4 Picket Drive, Apartment 2, screamed. No one paid her any heed. Lady Lily was always screaming inappropriate derogatory terms to everyone at all hours of the day and night, causing more of a ruckus than the party of #4 Picket Drive, Apartment 3, was anyway. Old Lady Lily must have once been pretty. One could see that at once, even if they had only stolen a quick glance at her. Perhaps there was nothing left of her once curvy, voluptuous figure, and her skin was beginning to sag with old age, but those eyes, oh those Spanish eyes that had once had every man in the entire county under a spell. Her eyes were huge, with long eyelashes and a sad, desperate, lonely look to them. Another beautiful thing about her was her hair. She refused to become one of those old ladies that live in retirement homes with short, frizzy perms; one of those old ladies whose biggest thrills and accomplishments in life are winning Saturday Night Bingo. Instead, her hair was of shining silver, long and thick and shimmering and she was always speaking of magic and spells and muttering under her breath about her husband, the late Johnny Connelly. The neighborhood gossip said that when her husband died, her sanity went with it. 'She's insane,' they said, 'She belongs in a mental institution,' they suggested.
Lily Potter, Old Lady Lily's daughter, lived with her husband, James, her son, Harry, and her nephew, Perry Hotter, the son of the late Ylile Hotter, at #4 Picket Drive, Apartment 3. She was quite a beauty, even at the age of 36. She had inherited her mother's eyes and had a slim athletic figure.
That day Lily Potter was busy in the kitchen, the place that she loved the most, and her son, Harry was doodling away, sulking, as he usually was.
"Don't you care about anything, you insolent little boy? Today is your cousin's 11th birthday and you have no present for him, no song! I've put up with enough of this behavior!" Lily cried, obviously impatient.
"But mother. You've forgotten, we have the same birthday- it's my birthday too." Harry replied.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!!!!!!!!" Harry was interrupted by his mother's loud, booming song voice just as Perry walked into the room. All of Perry's friends popped out and they gobbled up cake and ice cream, threw around toy guns, and just had plain old fun. Harry's parents had asked him if he wanted to invite any of his friends to Perry's party, but he declined, mostly because he didn't have any. "Say cheese!" Uncle James squeaked. His voice had never really changed during puberty. Actually, puberty didn't really affect him at all. He stood scrawny at a 4ft., 9in. frame, with a voice like the tired rusty hinges of a door. A camera flashed twice.
"Harry, dear, would you please get out of the way so that our son.er.nephew, can get his birthday pictures taken?" Harry quietly shuffled to the corner, his own birthday forgotten.
Later that night as Harry laid in his bunk bed, listening to Perry snoring contentedly on the bed above him; he noticed something queer fluttering out of the corner of his eye. It seemed to be dragging something with immense effort. It made the strangest humming noise as it dropped a letter in through the open window.
"Perry, look! Check out this weird letter! I think a hummingbird delivered it!" Harry shouted to Perry, grabbing the letter from the window still.
"Shut up, Harry!" Perry mumbled, throwing a pillow at Harry.
"No, I'm serious, Perry, check this out! It's addressed to you." Harry said after dodging the pillow with incredible expertise that came from years of living next door to Old Lady Lily. Harry waved the letter above his head enthusiastically, making him look like a bona fide idiot.
"Alright, if it'll make you be quiet, I'll take a look." Perry said drowsily. Harry handed him the paper and Perry threw another pillow at Harry.
"Pigpimpleton? Is this your idea of a joke Harry? Waking me up in the middle of the night for this piece of.rubbish?"
"Well, fine then Perry, if you don't appreciate me waking you up for your letter, then I'll just take it!" Harry shouted at Perry. He snatched up the letter from the snoring Perry. Simultaneously, an incredibly tiny man less then two feet tall soared in through the open window making the polka dotted curtains flutter in the open wind.
"How dare ye touch Perry's letter!" the little man screamed at Harry in a high-pitched squeaky voice. Perry awoke with a start to the abrupt sound.
"Who the heck are you?" Perry nearly screamed at the top of his lungs to the stranger in his room.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Dirgah the Midget of the Land of the Wizards." The mysterious stranger said in a high, giddy voice so fast that it was nearly unintelligible. "I have arrived to take Perry Hotter of the Hotter Clan to Pigpimpleton."
"Hotter Clan.? Well I suppose that would be me." Perry said quietly.
"The time has come." Dirgah said grandly, placing emphasis on every word with colossal effort.
"Okay, I don't know what you're talking about, so you just run along like a good little delusional freak and I won't have to call the cops, 'kay?" Perry responded, the fear edging into his voice.
"The time for what?" Harry asked.
"Obviously! The time for you, Perry, to enter!"
"Enter what?"
"Pigpimpleton!" the midget said, exasperated and evidently frustrated with the boy's ignorance. Suddenly, Aunt Lily and Uncle James burst through the door.
"We heard a noise." Aunt Lily began.
"And rushed to see what happened." James finished.
"Are you alright darling?" Lily said with genuine concern.
"I'm just fine, mom!" Harry replied.
"Not you!" Lily said, "I meant Perry!" Lily and James were both experts when it came to finding good character and saw none in the pathetic Harry, but quite a bit in Perry, whose courageous actions had once given him his 15 minutes of fame and recognition on Picket Drive.
"He's fine." Harry mumbled, his face flushing with jealousy. Lily and James heard a sound, more of a squeak, actually- and they turned around to come face to face with Dirgah (Well, because of Dirgah's height, it was more like face to knee). Of course Lily and James, being the concerned guardians that they were, insisted on knowing what the tiny man was doing in Perry's room. And of course Perry and Harry had to give an explanation lengthy enough to satisfy both Lily and James. Dirgah, being as short as he was, was quite easily forgotten and wandered about the room, bored out of his wits, speaking every so often to his hummingbird. The hummingbird was really a pathetic thing, forced out of the nest by the other, stronger birds of the offspring. Nature had meant for it to die before he really had a chance to live, that is, until Dirgah walked along and decided to raise it. Dirgah had quite a touch with animals and particularly favored small and helpless ones, for he felt that he could relate to them. Its name was Reding, for unlike most of the birds of his species, he was not of many exotic colors, but a dark musky brownish- red.
Dirgah certainly was curious to find out who or what the loud, coarse, screams of Lady Lily were coming from. Lily, James, Harry and Perry paid no heed to the noise, as if they were used to it. Dirgah was not of a patient species, for midgets did everything at the same speed: fast. They spoke quickly, ate quickly, and slept a mere 3 hours a day.
"Have you individuals completed your never-ending task of conversing over unimportant issues yet?" Four pairs of eyes were staring at him. "For if you do not mind, I wish to simply whisk Perry to Pigpimpleton and leave as soon as possible."
"Perry? Leave-no sir, you must be mistaken," James cried, pleading almost.
Lily, the more practical one, asked questions first, "Pigpimpleton? What on earth is that? How can we trust you? For all we know, you are a crack head that has come to kidnap our dear Perry. And even if there is such a school, why would Perry abandon his dreams of Cambridge and medicine for your school of.."
"Magic." Dirgah interrupted. A ripple of gasps went about the room.
"I swore that when we took Perry in we would get rid of such ideas! I support a modest imagination, but I saw how my dear sister Ylile was corrupted, along with Lady Lily-she was in that house, what do you call it? Ah yes, Vuxunum- they taught her nothing but evil and that had ultimately led her toward her death, for the evil are easily wiped out with -what were they again?- oh yes, the evil are easily wiped out by paper cuts. Now it is obvious here that Perry has not an ounce of evil, for he has survived many a paper cut and."
"I'm afraid you are mistaken. Pigpimpleton teaches no such things. Ylile turning corrupt was What's-His-Face's doing, not Alvin Mumblefore's; for the headmaster of Pigpimpleston would never allow such a doing. Perry obviously belongs in Pelicenya, not Vuxunem like Ylile. As for Perry's immunity to paper cuts, that is another story."
I'm afraid it is you that are mistaken. Perry is not going with you now or ever."
"I'm afraid that's not your decision to make!!" Dirgah squeaked, trying to muster as much courage as possible.
"Do I have a say in this?" Perry interrupted sudden.
"Of course you do, Perry!!!" Uncle James replied, "The birthday boy gets whatever he pleases!!" James and Lily beamed proudly at their dear son- err. nephew.
But before Perry could reply, Dirgah whipped out a silver thimble, and suddenly, Perry and Dirgah disappeared into thin air.