Monday
“Good morning, Doug!”
That chipper voice could only belong to one person and one person alone.
“Good morning, lamp!”
Ok. Person was a stretch but as far as Doug was concerned a talking lamp was as normal as the sunrise.
“Did you know ice cream will melt if it stays in a temperature above freezing?”
Though talking was common for lamps, intelligence wasn’t. Indeed, how could we expect something made from wires and light bulbs to speak in any manner of intelligence? That would surely be foolish of us.
“Did you also know that women are statistically better at preparing food than men? That’s why they should remain in the kitchen.”
It’s sexist attitude however...no excuse for that.
“Don’t let the toaster hear you say that,” Doug warned.
Indeed. The toaster would not be happy. Nor would Doug’s left shoe, the half eaten box of cereal or umbrella stand but they don’t have the same fiery passion as the toaster.
Oddly enough, the umbrellas within the stand refused to add their voice to this debate. But that was not the focus of our tale. Poor Doug is still waiting patiently to leave the bed.
“The toaster is living proof of my argument!”
Doug leapt out of bed and quickly threw on some clothes. This would only descend out of control and there would be no reason for him staying.
“I have to go now, lamp. Be good.”
“When it comes to shining light into the darkness, I’m always good.”
Doug decided that was enough and danced his way into the kitchen.
Though he had never taken ballet in his life, he had watch Black Swan once and figured it would be easy to mimic some of the moves. Before he even stepped a single pointed toe into the kitchen, his hopes and dreams were destroy.
He would never be a ballerina.
And maybe that was ok.
Doug believed that we are all placed on this earth to fill a specific need. Doug’s dancing wasn’t for the world to see. But somewhere out there, some other little girl’s dreams of being a dancer would be complete.
And that made Doug smile.
And on that note, Doctor Douglas B. Schultz dedicated all his success this day to that little girl.
“Fill their hearts with joy,” he said in silent prayer.
“You talkin’ to me?”
“Just a good luck prayer to all the little girls out there, giant wooden spoon.”
“Try ‘n’ keep that quiet, Doc. You don’t need people thinkin’ you got the pedophiling fever.”
Doug laughed. “You don’t have to worry, giant wooden spoon. I meant no harm.”
“Morning, Doug! The usual?” The toaster chimed in.
“Lightly brown...” Doug started.
“..So it gets soggy from the butter.” They finished together before breaking into laughter.
Doug laughed heartedly while the toaster’s laugh had a hint of sadness in it. The toaster deeply loved Doug but couldn’t bring itself to say anything. What if it altered their relationship? As wonderful as a yes could be, a no was too devastating. And everyone knows how fragile a toaster’s feelings can be.
So the morning ritual was all the toaster had and it cherished it for the rest of the day.
Doug, however, remained oblivious to the toaster’s feelings. Hell, Doug was oblivious to all feelings, including that of his favourite chair and it was quite clear with its feelings.
“I love you, Doctor.”
“Good morning to you too, chair,” Doug replied without a care in the world.
Poor chair.
It would have to find love in the coffee table later today.
“Tell me the good news today, newspaper.”
The newspaper remained silent. This was often the case. As the one object in the house that changed daily, it often got intimidated by the presence of so many things listening intensely. But like its predecessors, it was a professional and was here to do its job before moving on from this world.
The newspaper coughed a couple of times to clear itself of the ads and useless sections that wouldn’t interest Doug.
“Just a couple of things to note before we jump on ahead to the funny pages, Doc.”
“Hopefully, nothing too grim,” Doug said.
“Sadly, it seems like Bethany Wilson has died.”
The house fell silent. Doug sat there for a moment before putting down his toast to focus solely on the obituary in front of him.
Bethany Wilson was his best friend and one of his earliest patients. She was a sweet woman that had taken a chance on the young Doug when he moved to the town so many years ago. They had known each other for so long that she had been to both his wedding and his wife’s funeral.
To see that she was dead. It was just a grim reminder of how fleeting this life really was.
The house remained silent out of respect for Bethany.
Doug finished his breakfast and washed the dishes. He got ready for work and to his surprise, the lamp even remained quiet. The silence was starting to unnerve him and he longed for the company of his friends.
He stepped back out into the kitchen where the house waited to see what he would do next.
“It is safe to say we’ll miss her,” Doug started. “To say she was a friend to everyone here would be an understatement.”
It was true. After the funeral, Bethany had been there to help Doug get back onto his feet. She spent many days picking up the broken remains of his soul and it was because of her he was the man he was today.
“But we also know that she had been sick lately.”
Sweet Lady C had made its rounds on Bethany. Doug would go to visit her from time to time but he could tell she was nearing the end.
“She’s not in pain anymore. And we all know when we join her in the afterlife; she’ll be waiting for us with a big tray of those oatmeal cookies. So instead of dedicating this day to that little girl who dreams of being a ballerina, we will also be dedicating it to Bethany.
“I know it is unorthodox to dedicate a day to two people. But I can’t bring myself to crush those little girl’s hopes and dream so we’ll just work doubley hard today.”
“’ear ’ear, Doc. Well said,” the giant wooden spoon said.
“That’s something we can all get behind,” the toaster added.
“You can always count on us, Doug,” the freezer and fridge twins said in unison.
“Sit on me all day, please,” the chair added.
“Read the room,” the toaster hissed in warning.
With spirits again back at an all time high and Doug capable of just about anything short of being a ballerina, Doug finished getting ready for work. Though the usual pep in his steps wasn’t there anymore.
He checked the window and saw that it had just started to rain. Normally a damper on many people’s day, for Doug it meant bringing a friend with him when he went to work. He hurried over to the umbrella stand excited to make his selection.
“Pick me! Pick me! Pick me!” the umbrellas said in unison.
The umbrella stand itself sighed like a mother exhausted from chasing her kids around the mall all day. “Take care, Douglas. We’ll make sure everything here is good.”
“I know I can always count on you, umbrella stand.”
If the umbrella stand could blush, it probably would. But it couldn’t because it was an umbrella stand.
Doug reached in and pulled out the one umbrella that would make today perfect. He held it high above his head so the house could see it.
“I’m taking the ducky one today because ducks are magical,” Doug declared.
The room applauded.
It was true. Ducks truly were magical. In horribly inaccurate ‘scientific’ studies, it was found that ducks were the smartest animals on the planet and that they didn’t migrate in winter but instead went on a massive team building retreat to recharge before returning to manipulate the world banks.
“I’m off,” Doug called out.
A chorus of good luck and good byes rained down on Doug as he left the house. Switching to being rained down by water instead, he enjoyed it for a moment before opening his magical ducky umbrella and began the short walk to his office.
If you are unfamiliar with how a doctor’s office would look than you were in luck, because normal would not be how you would describe the office of Doctor Douglas B. Schultz, probably the best and only gynecologist in the town.
Quirky was how you would describe it. He was after all called Doctor Quirky by some of his patients. Others would just call him Doctor Schultz. He was just Doug to his friends though.
So when Doctor Quirky walked into his quirky office with his quirky umbrella, his receptionist said, “Good morning, Doctor Schultz.”
“Good morning, Elizabeth. Are you excited for the start of another amazing week?”
Her smile was strained. “It’s going to be a busy one this week, Doctor. I’m already counting the days until Friday.”
“Well, if we’re busy, it will just make the time go quicker. Trust me, by the end of the week you’ll be wondering where the days disappeared off too.”
The phone started to ring. “Are we placing bets?” she joked. “Your first appointment is in 15 minutes.”
Doug’s wet socks made a squishing sound as he walked to his office. It would be enough to dampen any mood but most people didn’t have the proper weapons to fight against the feeling. In his office, lay two perfectly arranged bunny slippers to slip into.
“In the absence of the sun, it is up to people like you, Doctor, to be the bright light in people’s day,” they said upon him entering them.
Not only did they keep his feet warm but the sagely advice was always appreciated. It was downright insane to think that someone would be selling such wisdom at a yard sale.
With 15 minutes before his first appointment, Doug had time to consult his friends and tell them the news about Bethany. They were all friends with her too and deserved to hear the news.
Doug was hesitant though. He didn’t know how they were going to take it. The news had devastated the house; he was sure it would be the same at the office.
After a deep breath, he said, “Stapler. Desk lamp. Paperweight frog. I have some sad news.”
“What’s up, Doc?” the Stapler asked.
“Sometime over the weekend, our dear friend Bethany Wilson died.” The office fell silent, as Doug had expected. “She’s meant a lot to us here and we will be working hard for her sake.”
It was silent for a moment before one voice spoke up. “Are you ok, Doug?” It was the desk lamp, his voice of reason in the office, unlike his brother at home. It’s probably because he had a higher wattage blub attached to him.
“The news hit hard and...” Doug started.
“Doug. Please. No doctor talk. This isn’t telling patient a bad news. Be honest with us,” the desk lamp pressed.
Doug paused for a second unable to say what was on the tip of his tongue.
“It’s fine,” he finally said.
“’Honesty heals,’” the right bunny slipper quoted.
“’Even when it hurts the most,’” the left bunny slipper continued.
“’Because you’ll never get better if you don’t let yourself heal,’” the right bunny slipper finished.
They were quoting Bethany Wilson’s words to young Doug when he was overcome with grief after his wife’s death. Or at least, they were trying too. A lot of time has passed and it was easy to forget exact quotes and phrases from people.
“She was a wise woman, Doctor,” the desk lamp continued. “What would she want you to do?”
Doug smiled weakly. “You’re right. You’re always right. I’m just...” he sighed. “I didn’t want to admit losing her hurt as much as losing Marcy.”
The office was in a hush. Doug had not said the name of his wife in a long time. It had become taboo amongst the many random objects that had become Doug’s best friends.
Doug crossed the room to sit in his chair. Unlike the one at home, this one couldn’t talk so we would never know its true feelings towards Doug.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do now,” Doug continued. “Obviously, I didn’t want to suffer any longer but...I wasn’t ready for her to leave. If I could just talk to her one more time.”
“I’m sure she knew how you felt, Doug,” the desk lamp reassured.
The paperweight frog croaked in agreement because that was all it could do. Frogs don’t talk.
“I know.” Doug smiled picturing her face. “It still would have been nice to say...something.”
The intercom beeped and he answered. “Yes.”
“You’re first appointment is a little early but she’s here,” Elizabeth informed.
“Thank you. Send her to Room 1. I’ll be right there.”
Doug leaned back in his chair trying to remove the dark cloud that was hovering over his mind.
“You’ll be ok, Doc,” the stapler reassured. “Once you start talking with the patients, you’ll be right back to normal.”
Doug nodded. “Thanks, stapler.”
The stapler was right. As they so often are. Doug’s mood picked up immediately after leaving the office. He had a great job and the patients waiting for him were old regulars.
A joke here a poke there, everything was right as rain in the world of vaginal health. In fact, you could say everything was coming up as ducky as his umbrella. And believe me, that ducky umbrella came up often in conversation.
But there was a shift in the air however when he walked into Room 2 late in the afternoon. A new patient awaited him. Blond hair, brown piercing eyes, small frame. Nothing out of the sorts really.
He checked her paperwork and after a quick question and answer session, he had learnt a bit about her but not why there was an uneasy feeling lingering around her.
Her name was Angela Matthews and she was new to town. Moving here for her job from the big city. She had everything sorted out except for finding a new doctor and Doug had come highly recommend by her new coworkers for his quirky attitude. The ducky umbrella made another appearance.
She seemed normal. Shy but that is to be expected of the situation. New doctor, new town, get in the stirrups.
But she came to see what everyone saw when they looked a Doug. They saw a sweet, if not a little eccentric, old man with a passion for medicine and the ability to make people comfortable around him. She proceeded to get ready for examination time.
The details of the examination are unnecessary. There were no surprises, save one.
“Psst. Douglas!”
It took Doug a second to realise where the voice was coming from.
“Yeah, right here. Hi! Have you been keeping well?”
Doug could only stare in shock. Never before had one ever spoken to him. The rule always seemed to be one voice per person and usually with humans, that voice came out of their mouths but here she was. Two voices. One person.
What could this mean?
“What’s going on?” Doug whispered as quietly as he could.
“Surely you recognise me?”
“Uh...” Doug coughed and Angela looked concern. He reassured her and went back to work.
Angela’s nether regions chuckled softly. “I guess I’m not being too helpful. Do I look familiar down here? Heavens no.” It laughed harder. “You’ve never seen me down here. But look at the young woman. Doesn’t she look familiar? Maybe look at some old pictures when you get home.”
Doug remained silent mostly out of shock but also because he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Check those pictures,” it continued. “And understand this. There is a way to see me again. You just need to open the door.”
Doug ended the examination early and tried to maintain his composure as to not freak out the young woman. She could sense he seemed upset but assured her there was nothing wrong with her.
She didn’t leave confident.
In the empty examination room, Doug breathed heavily as a small panic attack overtook him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, there was something familiar about her appearance but...
What the hell was going on?
He was going to have to check his pictures when he gets home. Hopefully he could get some answers.
The rest of the day was uneventful and after a light dinner and lovely conversation with the dirty pots, Doug could begin to unravel the mystery of who was the person behind Angela’s vagina.
Doug, like many modern day people, stored all his photos in a box buried in the closet. He didn’t own a camera and hasn’t taken a picture since after his wife died. A small part of him appreciated how isolated he had become because it meant this search would be a short one.
As he removed the shoebox containing no less than 28 pictures, mostly of his wedding, he felt himself hesitate to open it. Opening it meant seeing something he refused to face but hoped to never forget. Marcy’s face.
“It’s okay, Doug,” the toaster encouraged gently. “We’re all here for you.”
Doug nodded to himself but wouldn’t take his eyes of the shoebox. He slowly walked over to his favourite chair and sat down.
The chair, honoured to have been chosen to bear Doug’s weight in this, broke character and remained quiet. After this morning’s example, maybe it had learned to ‘read the room’ as the toaster suggested. So instead, it chose to embrace Doug as best as it could and wait patiently for his next move.
With a deep breath and a shakey hand, Doug removed the top. The picture on top was of Doug and Marcy’s honeymoon. The two of them on the beach smiling with the ocean behind them.
The Doug in the picture smiled like he was the happiest man in the world and the Doug holding the picture smiled back at him sadly. Looking at Marcy didn’t stir in him the feeling of dread he had feared. Instead he looked at her happily, honoured to have been a part of her life. As brief as it was.
Surprised with how easy it was to see her face again he continued on. More honeymoon pictures and some wedding pictures before he stopped and held up the single picture he was unknowingly looking for.
It was shot from the wedding. Doug and Marcy laughing and talking to a friend. Bethany Wilson. Only he had forgotten how she had looked all those years ago. Blond hair, brown piercing eyes, small frame. An exact double of Angela Matthews.
He put the box down and stood up, pacing back and forth.
Was it coincidence that on the day he learnt of Bethany’s death, her body double would show up at his office?
‘Surely you recognise me?’ the nether regions had asked.
Was it the voice of Bethany coming from inside?
Had Bethany somehow prevented death by being reborn as a new person and due to this weird transformation, she lost her memories but not completely but her soul can reach out to Doug and Doug alone?!
No! That’s silly!
Doug paced harder.
Was it?
“Talk to us, Doc,” the giant wooden spoon said in a concerned tone. “You’re makin’ us nervous.”
“I-I... can’t,” Doug replied.
“Whatever it is, we can help. Just say it,” the umbrella stand pushed.
Doug did his best to explain without sounding like a lunatic and the room listened quietly.
“It doesn’t sound that strange, Doug,” the toaster replied.
Doug was shocked. The toaster was usually the voice of reason at home.
“Toaster?” Doug asked in bewilderment.
“She was a special lady who was wiser than anyone else you know,” the toaster continued. “She had something she wanted to say to you and death wasn’t going to stop her. She found a way to get a message to you. Think back what else did she say?”
“I-I don’t know.” Panic was starting to grip at Doug’s heart but he remembered. “Nothing. I don’t think she said anything else.”
“Maybe it was just to get you to believe,” the giant wooden spoon pitched. “She wouldn’t say anything else until you understood the situation. Or maybe she couldn’t say anything because she was trapped. Kidnapped by something.”
Doug just shook his head. “I need to go think about this. I’m going to go shower.”
“Good idea,” the toaster said. “We’ll keep brainstorming.”
Doug hurried out of the room, his mind still trying to make sense of things. He quickly stripped and jumped into the shower.
Within that tiny shower, Doug had a lot of thoughts. None of which he was willing to share with anyone. The shower was a sanctuary when he needed some alone time.
After all, what were the odds of the soap or shampoo bottle striking up a conversation with you?
So Doug thought. And thought and thought and thought. He thought to the point he got distracted but lucky for us, it was only temporary and he was right back on track. Suddenly it hit him. He knew what he was going to do.
Without getting changed or some much as drying himself off, he walked right into the kitchen. His face was emotionless but he walked with conviction. The room stood in awe like Doug was a naked Emperor about to address his people.
“This is all silly. I’m going to bed.”
And so it shall be.
Silence followed him into the bedroom where even the bedside lamp remained quiet. He put his pajamas on while still wet and crawling into the bed, closing his eyes and shutting the world out around him.
He knew not when the crash came but only that he was on his feet before his eyes were open. Standing in the dark kitchen, he couldn’t see what made the crashing sound nor could he see anything else. He hurried over to the light switch and turned it on just as something rushed past his hand.
A knife stuck out of the wall not three centimetres from where his hand was and he turned around to see a faceless intruder.
A puff of smoke decided to dress up like it was in the Matrix as leather and smokey features moved in perfect harmony. Doug made out a glint of silver in the intruder’s hand and knew another knife was inbound.
“Doctor, get down!” a voice shouted.
Silver armour, a flash of long red hair and a flaming sword dashed out in front of him. A shield was raised and the knife ricocheted off of it.
The mysterious armour clad woman dashed forward towards the intruder and Doug could only watch as the two clashed in his kitchen.
The intruder was quick but no match for his protector’s flaming sword. Smokey features and leather were chopped off and before Doug knew it, the intruder was on the ground pinned under the armoured woman.
“Quickly, Doctor! Eradicate it!” she commanded.
“What?’ Doug asked in disbelief.
She looked exasperated which was really rude if you think about it. Doug had as much a chance of ‘eradicating’ this...Matrix fan boy as he did walking on the ceiling. Who was she to make such a request?
“You’re a doctor aren’t you?” she asked. “Don’t you have the power to heal others and destroy bacteria and viruses?”
Sure Doug had the knowledge of such things but Doug was part of a niche market in the medical community. One that wasn’t helpful for fighting off smoke people inside his house.
“Doctors are just modern day wizards. Tap into your potential and destroy this virus,” she pressed.
The intruder struggled under her and she was starting to lose control of him. Doug didn’t know what he could do but he couldn’t bear the thought of this young woman getting hurt because he refused to assist.
He got to his feet and fell back down to his knees. With determination and dignity, he crawled on all fours blubbering like a baby, hoping it would be quicker than trying to stand up again. When he was in front of the intruder, he could feel a weird corruption rolling off of it.
He froze unsure of what to do. He didn’t have a magic wand or cane or spell book or...anything really. What was he supposed to do? Check its heart beat? Because if Doug was sure of anything at this moment. It was that leather clad smoke monsters don’t have a heart.
Doing what they do in the books and movies, he held out his hand towards it like he was going to bless it.
“Abracadabra,” he choked out.
Of course, nothing happened. Doug was too afraid to ‘tap into his potential’ as she said. He was about to give up hope when the intruder threw the woman off and started to get up.
In that moment, Doug knew he was going to die. In his heart, he never shied away from that thought. Not once since his wife’s death. But today, facing death in its leather hoodie, he realised how foolish that thought had been. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to live. And that was when something miraculous happened.
From his hand emitted a bright light not unlike the type you would see in a LED flashlight. The invader froze in place and hissed as his shadow form started to evaporate. Filled with hope, he pushed his hand out harder at it but seeing as he didn’t know how this power worked, he could have been doing jumping jacks and the same effect would have happen.
But he was trying so we’ll give it to him.
The smoke dissipated slowly and the armoured woman drove her flaming sword through the centre of the intruder. The last of the smoke disappeared and Doug lowered his hand. Never in his 63 years on this planet had he done something like...that.
“Looks like he’s...toast,” the woman chuckled to herself.
Doug sat unmoving and she extended her hand to help him up. With the battle over he noticed that the sword was no longer on fire and even her hair had changed from red to black. He realised he was just staring at her impolitely and took her hand to get back on his feet.
He went to let go but she refused to let go of his hand. When he looked at her questioningly, she quickly dropped it and looked embarrassed.
“G-Good to see you are ok, Doug,” she said.
“What...? Who...?” Doug asked breathlessly.
“I’m trying to make sense of it myself,” she replied trying to smile reassuringly. “Let’s start simple. I’m the toaster.”
“W-w-w-w-w...”
“Yes, Doug. It’s really me. Like I said, I’m trying to make sense of all this too. When I saw that...thing attack you...I felt so helpless. I would have given anything to be able to help you and it seems my prayers have been answered.”
“How?” Doug asked. Tears were starting to come out as he felt completely overwhelmed by the situation.
“I...think it might have been Bethany.”
Doug was just frozen in place.
“It’s tough to describe but...she was definitely more than she seemed. She transcended death and when that...thing broke in. I think she bounded me to this body to help you. It must have been sent by someone to stop you.”
“Bghyj...”
“We should check its clothes. Maybe it still has some instructions on it.”
It was a logical plan. Even Doug couldn’t fault it...if he was keeping up. He seemed to be frozen and still trapped at the beginning of this whole thing so the toaster proceeded to check out the intruder’s clothes just to move things along.
“You’re the toaster?” Doug asked, breaking his silence but not for anything useful.
The toaster chose to ignore it sparing us the endless loop that was sure to follow. “Here we go,” she said, pulling a neatly folded piece of paper from the jacket pocket.
In a nice break from his most recent thoughts, the neatly folded part captured Doug’s interested. Was the paper folded upon being handed to the intruder or did the intruder in his smokey features choose to neatly fold the paper when he was finished reading it.
With this little puzzle, Doug was able to grab a hold of his wits and return to a somewhat useful state for the situation. “What does it say?” he asked.
She handed the paper to him. “Toasters can’t read.”
That should have been obvious to Doug but he was distracted with his new little puzzle so we’re just going to forgive him for that blunder.
With the paper in his hands, a feeling of dread filled Doug. He carefully opened the paper and found messy writing inside.
At least the mystery of who folded the paper was solved. It couldn’t have been the person that wrote the note. Why scribble down something like you were writing with your eyes closed than neatly fold the paper? The contrast was too stark. Clearly the smokey intruder was the one that folded the note, probably as some little OCD quirk it had. With the great mystery solved, Doug was reassured in his sanity and continued on to read the note.
“She has made contact with someone from the outside world,” Doug read aloud for the benefit of the toaster. “Trace the fool’s stench to his house and put him down. He knows too much.”
If there was anything more on the paper, Doug didn’t know. It had fallen out of his shaking hands and he didn’t want to risk bending over to pick it up. The toaster hurried over to him and gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him.
“This is no longer speculation,” she said. “Bethany has somehow returned and it opened the door between realms. She needs our help to set it right.”
“What are we supposed to do?” Doug asked. “I can’t fight anything.”
“Leave the major fighting to me, Doctor, but know you’re not defenceless. You saw what you can do against the smoke thingy. We need to harness that energy. It has to be linked to this somehow.”
“How?”
“We’ll have to find a way.”
As much as Doug didn’t want to believe, the evidence was piling up. The note, the intruder, the fact that his toaster is now in a human body, that...thing he did with his hand. Something was going on.
“You’re right,” Doug said with more conviction than he’s had in the past 20 minutes. “We’ll find out what’s really going on here.”
This was sure to end well.
