A monstrous man came to the house. But I was the only one that saw he was not human. Large curved ram horns framed his elongated ram-like face. Ram eyes watched carefully for signs of danger while a two-toned voice explained his quandary.
Thieves ransacked his truck, and destroyed some things. But the fools left the important stuff behind and only shredded his planner. He has a duplicate at the office. But the office is several weeks of travel away and he needs to reconstruct his planner the best he could now. Do we have a calendar that he could copy from?
Knowing my mother, I jumped in the conversation. “If you have a moment, I’ll print you a new monthly calendar. How many months out do you need?” He claims to be a trucker, a big-rig truck is parked out front on the street. His planner cover is covered in graffiti that he has mostly blocked out. So what if his stubby human hands end in black fingernails. So what if his voice sounds human and ram-like. He’s just another guy trying to do his job. Man. Honor that.
My mother, no longer the center of his attention, offered to make him lunch. I warned her that if he says he’s allergic to anything, including meat proteins, to respect that. She took offense and demanded I justify myself. “I saw a medical alert badge on him.” I didn’t, but he mumbled thanks, and she backed down into smothering glee. She has someone new to dote on. I better make this fast.
My father overheard me, and has taken over the computer. He knows just what the trucker needs, he says. I hold my face to keep from strangling him and move to my room, where I have my personal system. I try to print the blank generic calendar many times, but Dad keeps stopping and canceling my simple print jobs so he can attempt his hot ass mess.
Mom has now invited the ram-headed man in and is showing him the house. It is everything I can do to keep from screaming. He looks at me, almost apologetically, though I’m not sure who is in worse care.
His radio crackles. The dispatcher is asking for his location. He radios back he is getting new supplies and will be on the road shortly. “We heard about the break-in. Glad the cargo is safe. More glad you are safe.”
“I’m quite safe.”, he says, while staring directly at me. “Will be on the road soon. Will radio with updates.”
Dad’s attempt to show off has fouled the settings for the calendar program. I try to undo it so I can print his calendar and send him on his way. The trucker looks over my shoulder. “Oh, you have this program too? I’m sorry. I can’t tell you how frustrating it is when someone changes my settings!” His commiseration is sincere. He tells me how to purge all settings so the calendar will be the blank default. A minute later, his calendar is printing out.
He thanks me for the calendar, thanks Mom for the hospitality, thanks Dad for also attempting. He radios his dispatcher to tell them he is about to resume his travels, and leaves.
Mom and Dad resume what they were doing before he arrived. Only I remember him being there. I think on the lesson shown me, and leave the scene.