Page 11 of Shelf-Made Man
Although Tobias wasn’t sure that was wise, he understood Alfie’s desire to hang on to some dignity, so he nodded. “We can give it a try.”
Alfie managed to sit up with help and then twisted so his feet were on the floor. His face was tight with pain, but he gripped Tobias’s arm and slowly stood. “I’m normally very graceful,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ve won ribbons for my dancing.”
“The last time I tried was in junior high when we had to do square dancing. I was awful. Stomped all over everyone’s feet, messed up the steps, couldn’t keep to the beat to save my life.” It had been acutely embarrassing, but then so was virtually everything else at that age. He’d tried hard to remain in the background of things, hoping nobody would notice him, but that became increasingly difficult once his growth spurt hit and he went from large to massive.
“I could teach you how, once I’ve recovered.”
Tobias thought about what private lessons might entail—lots of touching and attention to his physical self—and felt a rush of desire so strong that his knees felt weak. He had to remind himself that he was supposed to be supporting Alfie, not lusting after him.
“I’m probably a hopeless case.”
“No, I could teach you,” Alfie repeated confidently.
It took a long time to cross the room, walk the fewsteps down the hall, and enter the bathroom, and Tobias ended up bearing a good portion of Alfie’s weight. For once he was happy about his size and strength because they allowed him to help.
Alfie didn’t let go until he was seated on the toilet. “Thank you, Tobias.”
“I’ll give you some privacy. Call when you’re ready to walk back. Don’t try it by yourself.”
“You’re quite good at looking stern.” Alfie didn’t quite smile, but humor definitely danced in those blue eyes.
Tobias lurked in the hallway, marveling at the sudden strange turn in his life.
Alfie needed even more support on the way back, and both he and Tobias were relieved once he was tucked back into bed. “Do you have bathrooms where you come from?” asked Tobias while adjusting the pillow.
“Of course. We’re not barbarians.”
“I just thought… I don’t know. I didn’t picture elves with modern plumbing, I guess.” Somehow the folklore never seemed to mention elfin toilets.
“My chambers at the palace have a water closet with a toilet and bidet, as well as a bath room with a tub large enough to invite two or three friends to join me.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, but then his face fell. “Had. I’ll never see the palace again.”
“Why not?”
Alfie spread his arms. “I’m here. I have no means to return to my world.”
“Yourworld? Wait. Let me go make some breakfast and then maybe you can explain a little.”
While Alfie dozed, Tobias hurried through morning ablutions, threw on some clean clothes, and prepared bacon, pancakes, and tea. He sat in the bedroom chair to eat while Alfie tackled his meal with enthusiasm. When Tobias offered to change the bedding, which harbored crumbs and a little dried blood, Alfie shook his head. “It can wait. You asked about my world.”
Ah. It was finally story time. “Is it really a whole separate world? Like a different planet or something?” Maybe elves were aliens.
“It’s more like… a different layer. Imagine two pieces of cloth, one floating on top of the other. They have much in common, but each is independent and self-contained. A bit of space separates them, and generally there is no interaction between them. But at certain times, one of the pieces curves so as to touch the other. This never lasts long, but while it does, those who exist on one piece can view those on the other.” He paused and cocked his head, clearly waiting to see whether Tobias understood.
Surprisingly, Tobias did. In fact, he remembered something Aunt Virginia had told him.The border between the possible and the impossible becomes more permeable.“Is later December one of those times?”
Pleased, Alfie flashed him a grin. “Yes! During the winter and summer solstices, our worlds can reliably be expected to touch. It’s less predictable at other times of the year, and sometimes it’s a particular eventin one world or the other that causes the warping of the fabric.”
“So when this happens, you guys can see what we’re up to.”
“To a limited extent.” Alfie shrugged. “We see enough to have some notion of events in your world. And sometimes your people catch glimpses of us.”
Realization hit. “That’s why we have stories about Christmas elves, isn’t it?”
“I believe so. Your people have other lore that we’ve inspired as well, about brownies, goblins, pixies, and boggarts.”
Although all of this should have seemed like a load of nonsense straight out of a novel, Tobias had no trouble believing it. After all, he had an elf in his bed. Besides, the explanation made sense, like a math problem where both sides of the equation equaled out.
“How long does this, um, warping last? Do we still have time to get you back home?”
