“Uh, take me next door to Sal, I guess. He’s the kind of guy who can keep a secret.”
“Okay, perfect!” Monique said. She bent down and reached out for Mike, and he cowered in fear. Her fingers gently wrapped around him.
“Relax, I wouldn’t hurt you,” she laughed.
Mike looked out at his surroundings. Everything was massive, it was surreal. As they made their way to Sal’s house Mike got curious.
“So, uh, when I’m tiny how will I get around the office?”
“It depends. If you’re with Dr. Zimmerman she always keeps her filling tech in her lab coat pocket. Dr. Martin tends to have his dental assistants transport his. And our newest dentist is Dr. Sloan. I don’t think she’a worked with a filling tech yet. I imagine, being the new guy, you’ll get assigned to her.”
Monique knocked on Sal’s door. Sal answered in a pink, silky robe, whiskey in hand and a Marlboro dangling between his lips.
“Well hello beautiful,” he said.
“Hi, it’s Sal, right?”
Sal looked out the door left and right.
“Who’s asking?”
“Hi, I’m Monique. I work with Mike next door.”
“Oh, the little guy.” This made Monique giggle. “Nice kid, seems like the type who’d shit his pants if anything went down. But I let him know he could call on ol’ Sal.”
It was true. Sal had told Mike he could call on him. And it scared the crap out of Mike.
“Well Mike says you’re the kind of guy who can keep a secret, so I’m hoping you can keep this one. Mike is part of a new medical program, one that requires a downsizing technique. Unfortunately I have to go back to the office to get another piece of equipment, and I was hoping you could watch Mike,” Monique said, lifting you in the air.
Sal’s cigarette fell out of his mouth, and he almost dropped his whiskey.
“Holy shit, you’re shorter than Jimmy the Kid. And I thought he was the smallest guy I’d ever meet. Uh yeah, sure, the kid can stay with me,” Sal said, holding his palm out. Monique sat Mike in Sal’s palm.
“I’ll be back she said,” and she walked away to her car.
“Kid, where I’m from,” Sal said, closing the door, “we call this some what the fuck type shit. You just let them do this to ya?”
Sal sat down in his recliner as you answered.
“Uh, yeah, it’s for work.”
“What line of work you in? Picking locks?”
“Uh no, welding.”
Sal leaned his recliner out and dropped you on his hairy exposed belly. He grabbed a fresh Marlboro and lit it.
“You smoke?”
“Uh, no sir,”
“You know, and I ain’t one to tell secrets, that broad across the road does but her husband don’t know. She looks innocent, but I betcha she ain’t. She cute too. You oughta move in on that.”
“But, uh, she’s married.”
“So was I,” Sal said, “but if your wife don’t know about your girlfriends, then you ain’t got girlfriends.”
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