\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/874390-The-Big-Move
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
by zamo Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Comedy · #874390
Getting from one place to another has never been so odd.
THE BIG MOVE

About a week ago, I was wandering about the public library in the usual manner, the library being one of my frequent haunts. As I ducked from aisle to aisle in my routine practice of avoiding people I know, I slipped quickly into the periodicals section so as to bypass an oncoming glance from old what's her name. I always avoid people I know. It's just so awkward!
"Hey, how are ya!?"
"Ok, I guess." I reply."How are you?"
"Oh, just fine."
"Good! That's good." I say.
"Yep. Real good." They respond. After several silent moments of standing with our hands in our pockets and half smiles on our faces accompanied by reflexive nods, the acquaintance will say, "Well, good seein' ya!" as if they mean it, and then we go our separate ways. I always leave such encounters kicking myself, not only for being spotted but also for wasting so much time.

This particular day I was successful. I slipped into the periodical section undetected, except that in my haste to avoid old what's her name, I found myself under the inquisitive eye of Nate Burns, an old co-worker of mine who was browsing through an edition of "Scientific American" in a vain attempt to appear intelligent. "Say, where's the bomb?" He asked.
I uncovered my head and stood up, brushing off my clothes.
"Ohh, uhh, I was just, uuhhh, looking for my contact lens." I said, clearing my throat.
"Oh." He said."Those glasses on your face aren't working anymore?"
Nate is one of those guys who ask too many dumb questions.
"Never-mind that!" I snapped. "What are you doing here?"
"I was just looking around for information on moving companies. I'm transferring next month." Nate said.
"Ohhh, well good for you! New company?" I asked.
"Eviction." Nate replied.
"Strange name for a business." I muttered."Say, I know of a great moving company! They moved me when I got that new job last summer. They don't look like much, and they're a bit odd, the job gets done." I said.
"What do you mean,'Odd'?" He said suspiciously.
"Well, let me tell you a story." I said. "You don't have to be home anytime soon, do you?"
"Eviction!" He barked.
"Oh, you have to go to work? Well, this won't take long." I said. Nate rolled his eyes. He always had attitude problems.

As I told Nate, last summer, I got a new job that required a large scale move. My company recommended a certain O'Brian's movers, that my company would cover the cost for. They were very efficient! They called to set up a moving date and time for pick up, and they even sent someone ahead of the truck to pack my breakable items for me.

The day came when the truck was scheduled to arrive at three O'clock in the afternoon. I waited in my box laden apartment until six, when the truck showed up. I heard a knock on the door. I made my way through the maze of cartons and totes, expecting to open the door to five or six behemoth looking, burly men, but to my surprise I opened the door to find a solitary, slim looking man with a grin from ear to ear. He stood over six feet tall, and his lanky, rubbery looking extremities looked like they could have been used as built in bungee cords.
"Thomas?" He asked, extending a friendly hand.
"That's me!" I said, motioning him in.
"I'm John." He said."And this is Jake and Raymond." He said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. Jake and Raymond? I thought. I didn't see anyone else when I opened the door, but to my astonishment, Jake and Raymond stood single file behind John, concealing their slender bodies.

They walked through the door, nodding courteously in the direction of my amazed complexion. How in the world can three undernourished men move all of these heavy boxes? I thought. They looked like they could barely handle the weight of the shirts on their backs and they were supposed to move my entire household? No wonder they were late. Their last job probably wore them out, but I was profoundly amused when they began picking up some of my heaviest objects like they were pillows and hauling them out the door. Well, that's not so hard, I thought, but what about the stairs. That's when I heard the deafening sound of heavy objects rattling as if they were tossed into a monstrous blender, I ran out the door to see what had happened, and there I saw Jake at the top of the stairs on his knees. I scanned down to the bottom of the stairs and saw Raymond picking himself up, piece by piece from underneath a sixty pound plastic tote.
"I'll call an ambulance!" I yelped.
"You ain't gotta do dat." Jake said. "He does dis all the time. We line the stairs with cardboard boxes and slide stuff down to Raymond, and he catches em."
"Ohh, is that what happened to his face?" I asked.
"Nothing happened to my face!" Came a voice from downstairs. "Now send me anudder one!"

I mused at this spectacle for a while and then went back inside. John was gone. I looked in the bedroom and scanned the piles of boxes. Nothing. And then, over by the computer desk, I spotted a foot sticking up between a box and a lamp. I squeezed my way through the labyrinth of stuff to where John was. He was lying on his back underneath the desk.
"Whatcha doin'?" I asked.
"I'm just dissassemblin' this here desk so it'll fit on the truck." He said, turning a screwdriver. The desk was made mostly of hollow, aluminum legs and a particle board top covered with a plastic veneer. It came apart in three places, the first section being part of the side of the desk with a leg sticking off of it that had a metal foot at the bottom to prevent damage to flooring. When John got the first set of screws loose, the section with the leg fell over sideways. Apparently the metal foot of the desk caught part of John's shoe lace and when Jake came to carry out the piece of the desk he dragged John out the door and threw him down the stairs to Raymond before he noticed anything was wrong.

John cooled off after a few minutes and came back upstairs to finish the desk. It was then that as I was taping up a box that something mysterious happened. I saw a mop floating around the room vertically, heading for the door, the head flopping up and down at the top of the stick. I froze. It turned out to be Raymond. "What's all the yellin' for?" He said, poking out from behind the mop handle.
"Oh, nothing." I said."I just dropped this box on my toe." The mop shrugged and walked out the door.

All in all, it took under an hour for the three men to load my things onto the truck. I must say, I severely underestimated their capabilities. Although, I was worried that while unpacking I would find Raymond stuck to the bottom of one of my boxes, but I didn't. And remarkably, nothing was broken in transit.

Nate looked at me quizzically. "What did you say the were called?"
"O'Brian's." I said. "Do you think your company would cover the cost for you?"
"Never-mind." Nate said.
"Don't look now!" I gasped. "It's old what's his face!" I flopped my back against a wall of magazines and inched over to the edge of the aisle. After peeking around the corner, I vanished into the cover of the reference section, once again, a narrow escape.
© Copyright 2004 zamo (zamo4 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/874390-The-Big-Move