Story 523: Moving Shortcut

             (In a ground floor apartment)

Tenant: (Stretched out on the living room couch with a laptop and speaking on a cell phone) I know you would like the project done by this afternoon, but I’m about to disillusion you of your unfeasible dream…. Not possible – earliest will be next Tuesday, and that’s being unreasonably optimistic…. (Picks up a drink that was sitting on the floor next to the couch, slurps through the straw, shakes head, and sets the drink back down) This isn’t me being difficult; this is reality asserting its dominance over your fantasy of an automated human workforce…. And I’m sure you can be replaced by A.I. as well, but – (A resounding CRASH! is heard outside the living room window; Tenant jumps in the seat and nearly drops the phone and the laptop) Holy all-the-curse-words-I can-think-of!  (Sets aside the laptop to get off the couch) ….I have no idea!  I’ll have to call you back…. When I have time!... `K boss; bye.  (Ends the call and tosses the phone onto the couch, then peers through the window to see a giant, broken wardrobe sitting on the common lawn in front of that section of apartments) What in the world – ?  (A dining room table CRASH!es next to the wardrobe and splinters apart) A crime!  I’m actually witnessing a crime in progress!  (Several movers approach from the parking lot and start breaking apart the furniture and hauling away the pieces; Tenant opens the window and sticks head out) Hey!  Did a moving truck get sucked up into a tornado and explode overhead?

Mover 1: (Pauses the disassembly) Sorry?

Tenant: What on Earth is going on here?!

Mover 1: Oh, your upstairs neighbor moved away so we’re just cleaning out the place.

Tenant: By cannon?!

Mover 1: Huh?

Tenant: You can’t just fling furniture out the window to get rid of it!

Mover 1: Why not?

Tenant: (Sputters) Be-be-because it’s dangerous!

Mover 1: Oh no, it’s OK; we got a system.

Mover 2: (Above them on the upstairs neighbor’s balcony) Heads-up!

Mover 1: (Looks up briefly, then back down to Tenant) Excuse me.  (Steps aside along with the other movers as a refrigerator crashes nearby) See?

Tenant: Argh!  (Slams the window shut, runs outside to where the movers are, and looks up to Mover 2 on the balcony above, who is about to toss a piano overboard) HEY!

Mover 2: Oh hey, what’s up?

Tenant: You can’t be throwing furniture off the balcony, you could hurt somebody!

Mover 2: Oh no, it’s OK; we got a system.  (To the movers below) Heads-up!  (They step aside as Mover 2 hauls up the piano)

Tenant: (Holds up arms) Whoa-whoa-wait-stop!

Mover 2: (Rests the piano on the balcony railing)Yeah, sure, what’s up?

Tenant: No more throwing enormous objects to the ground!  Use the stairs to bring down stuff like a decent human being!

Mover 2: Yeah, we thought of that, but this way’s faster.  (Tips the piano over the railing and it CRASH!es to the ground to the tune of all the notes)

Tenant: (Cringes with arms flung overhead during the crash) What is wrong with you?!

Mover 2: (Stretches arms and back) I think I’m all good, but thanks for asking.  (Goes back inside the apartment)

Tenant: (Nearly hopping with rage) Ooooooohhhhh!!!

Mover 1: (As the others cart away the broken furniture) That was it for us today – we’ll toss the bed and entertainment system tomorrow.

Tenant: No-no-no!  No more tossing!  You could’ve hurt one of my neighbors!  Or me!

Mover 1: Nobody’s been around here for the last half hour, and you were indoors until now.

Tenant: Not the point!  Someone could’ve walked by and been hit by furniture debris – you can’t account for everything!  (Sees the others getting into a truck parked next to the dumpster) And you can’t just leave all that garbage piled next to the dumpster!

Mover 1: Why not?  It’s garbage.  (Leaves as Mover 2 walks by carrying a laundry rack)

Mover 2: (To hyperventilating Tenant) See you tomorrow, yeah?  (Tosses the rack onto the furniture pile and climbs into the truck)

Tenant: (Quivering in helpless fury as the truck drives away) …I’M TELLING!

THE NEXT DAY

(Tenant is working on the laptop again, but instead of being spread out on the couch is seated in a chair keeping watch with binoculars at the living room window when the cell phone rings)

Tenant: (Turns away from the window to answer the call) WHAT?!... No, I haven’t started working on that yet, it’s been raining furniture around here lately and I’m on guard for when the next storm shows up!... Well, not much seems to make sense to you, does it!  (There is a knock at the door) …Great, they probably came back and you made me miss them in action, thanks a lot!... (Stands and walks to the door) …Yes, I know my annual employee evaluation is due this week; I fail to understand its relevance to this conversation.  Speaking of which – (Ends the call, throws the phone onto the couch, and flings opens the door) YES?!

Owner: Hi – I own the unit above yours and got a call from the association that you submitted a complaint about furniture being dropped outside your window?

Tenant: YES?!

Owner: Well, I’d like to apologize on their behalf – I’m taking care of the mess and it won’t happen again.  I heard you were very, very, very upset, and I wanted to smooth everything over so we stay on good terms.

Tenant: (Blinks several times) No worries – lucky for you, I’m a very easygoing person.

Story 327: A Bit Washed Out

            (Friend 2 walks down the hallway to Friend 1’s apartment, looking down and stepping around large puddles of water along the way.  Friend 2 knocks on the apartment door and Friend 1 opens it after a minute)

            Friend 1: Hey!  Ready to go?

            Friend 2: Only if you are – you got a leak or something?

          Friend 1: Huh?  (Friend 2 steps aside and gestures to the lakes scattered along the hallway; Friend 1’s eyes widen) WHAT?!

            Friend 2: So I guess this isn’t from you, then.

          Friend 1: Darn tootin’ it’s not from me!  Unless – (Runs back into the apartment, a lot of banging and crashes are heard, then runs back to the front door) Nope, it isn’t from me.

            Friend 2: Do you think it’s coming from one of your neighbors?

           Friend 1: (Walks up and down the hallway, peering closely at the lakes) I don’t think so: they seem to be springing up all over.  (Freezes around the hallway’s midpoint) Hang on – you hear that?

            Friend 2: (Tilts head) No – what?

           Friend 1: (Places an ear against the wall on the same side of the hallway as the apartment, then grinds teeth) Niagara Falls.

            Friend 2: (Also places an ear against the wall) Oh wow, it sounds like a pipe burst in there – how old is this building?

            Friend 1: Literally centuries.  (Takes phone out of jeans pocket and makes a call) Hi, this is the tenant from Apartment 5B, there’s water absolutely all over the corridor here, you might want to have it taken care of before the entire building implodes, hope you’re enjoying the Galápagos, bye!  (Disconnects the call and sticks the phone back into pocket)

            Friend 2: Wait, the landlord’s on vacation and didn’t leave anyone in charge?

            Friend 1: Yeah, why?

            Friend 2: In case something like this happens!

            Friend 1: All I know is, I’m not responsible for anything in this entire building, and that’s how I like it.

           Friend 2: I guess, but in the meantime your apartment might get flooded or the walls and floors could all rot out, collapsing the entire place and then you’d be homeless for who-knows-how-long until your landlord gets their act together from the Galápagos to fix it!  Plus everyone else who lives here would be homeless too, just as a side note.

            Friend 1: (Thinks for a few moments) You make an excellent point.  (Walks past Friend 2 into the apartment, then after another few moments walks back out to the hallway, faces the wall where the water was heard, and begins to slam it with a sledgehammer)

            Friend 2: (Shielding head as debris flies by) Whoa!  Wait a second, what are you doing?!

            Friend 1: Taking matters into my own hands.  (Slam)

            Friend 2: I meant something more along the lines of calling the water company!

          Friend 1: There’s no time for bureaucratic red tape in this situation.  (One last slam reaches the wall’s innards: the rushing water can be heard louder, but not seen) Right.  (Walks into the apartment, then after a few moments walks back out to the hallway wearing a headlamp and carrying a bucket, duct tape, and a blowtorch) If I don’t come back in an hour, then call the water company.

            Friend 2: Wait – wait – wait – this is nuts, you need a plumber or – or –

           Friend 1: We need, as a society, to be able to resolve problems ourselves and not stand around helplessly waiting for someone else to save us.  (Crawls into the jagged hole in the wall)

            Friend 2: (Cups mouth to shout) At least the someone else would know what they’re doing!  (Mutters) Guess this means we’re not going to the bridal shower today.

59 MINUTES LATER

          (Friend 2 is sitting on the couch inside Friend 1’s apartment, constantly checking the time, when Friend 1 arrives)

            Friend 2: (Stands) You made it!  I was about to call 9-1-1 for a search-and-rescue.

           Friend 1: (Dripping from head to toe) Not necessary.  (Drops headlamp and supplies onto the floor) I believe the situation has been rectified.

            Friend 2: You actually sealed the pipe?

          Friend 1: Heh, no – I did battle with the raging rapids for eons, but there’re too many pipes that are too busted, they’re a lost cause.  No, instead I managed to track down the main shut-off valve for the building, and problem solved.  (Squeezes water out of hair)

            Friend 2: But now no one here has water!                                                                   

           Friend 1: Can’t have it both ways.  Besides, it may turn out that I’m the only one affected by all this – I never see my neighbors and not one even made an appearance during the hullaballoo, so I seriously question whether they’re even real.

Story 251: Repair Work Creates More Problems

            (Tenant, wearing pajamas and a robe, opens the front door to Contractor)

            Contractor: Hi there, the Landlord sent me over – you got a leak from the upstairs apartment that’s destroyed your bathroom ceiling?

           Tenant: (Sniffles) Yeah, thanks, come on in.  (Coughs very productively as they head over there) Sorry, I came home from work with the flu, and when I came in here to drown my head in the sink, I saw this.  (Flips on the bathroom light and points to the ceiling, which is sagging almost completely off the beams and has transformed to an unnatural shade of black)

            Contractor: Whoa.

            Tenant: (Sneezes) Yeah.  You think it’s mold?

            Contractor: I think it’s everything, but I can’t tell how much or how far it’s spread until I’ve done exploratory surgery on it.  Did they stop the leak upstairs?

            Tenant: Think so – they said they fixed it and I don’t hear water running 24/7 anymore, so that part should be all right.  You need anything from me right now to check it out?

            Contractor: Nope.  (Whips out a ladder and a tool chest) All set for the demolition; best not to come in here for the next half hour at least.

            Tenant: Good; I’m gonna go pass out in my room for a bit.

            Contractor: Sure thing, but it’ll get real noisy in here in a minute.

            Tenant: I’ll be dead to the world in 30 seconds.

            (Fifteen minutes later)

            Contractor: (Knocking on the bedroom door) Yoo-hoo!  Still alive in there?

            Tenant: (Slowly opens the door, looking even worse than before) Yup?

            Contractor: Hi there, can I show you something?

            Tenant: If it’s the bill, send it upstairs; I’m not paying a dime.

            Contractor: Ahahahahahaha – no, it’s something… unusual.

            Tenant: Don’t tell me there’s a family of cats or rats or bats up there?

            Contractor: Not exactly.

            (They climb the ladder and stick their heads through the gaping hole in the ceiling; Contractor shines a flashlight onto a spot in the corner)

            Tenant: (Squints) Those look like the Crown Jewels.

            Contractor: Yeppers.

          Tenant: Am I hallucinating?  I think that’s one of the side effects listed on the meds I was given.

            Contractor: Well I’m not taking them and I, too, see expensive-looking items there.  You don’t happen to remember stashing any loot up here, do you?

            Tenant: If I had stuff like that, I wouldn’t be living here.

           (The Upstairs Tenant is called to see the loot.  After descending the ladder, all three stare at the now-exposed ceiling)

           Upstairs Tenant: I think it’s obvious: since they were left under my floor, that clearly means they belong to me.

           Tenant: (Chokes for a few moments) Nah-uh!  They’re in my ceiling, so that clearly means they belong to me!  Not to mention your leak destroyed my ceiling in the first place, ergo they’re mine twice over!

            Upstairs Tenant: Actually, since it was my leak as you remind me every day, you would never have found these things if it wasn’t for me, ergo they’re mine twice over!  Plus I need some compensation for the inflated bill I’ll no doubt be sent.

          Tenant: What about the mold I’m breathing in that probably gave me the flu and is possibly now killing me as we speak?!

            Contractor: Oh, the mold’s contained; shouldn’t be an issue once I dump all this garbage.

            Tenant: But it could have been an issue!

           Upstairs Tenant: Any mold after you moved in here is yours, just as any valuables stashed in the space below my floor and above your ceiling are mine.

            Contractor: Guys, guys, let’s be reasonable.  Since I’m the one who the opened the ceiling and found these things in the first place, clearly they belong to me.

            Upstairs Tenant: In a pig’s eye!  They’re in my floor!

            Tenant: No they’re not, they’re in my ceiling!

            Contractor: Yeah, I think I’ll just take them; finders keepers and all that.  (Starts to ascend the ladder)

            Tenants: No!  (There is a scrum at the ladder as all three try to climb it simultaneously)

           Tenant: (Sneezing) There!  May you both get infected and only have last’s year vaccine, you thieves!

           (The front door slams open; the three freeze as an imposing figure enters the apartment and stops at the bathroom doorway)

            Landlord: Well, well, well.  Seems like I’ve got a tenant dispute on my hands.

            Upstairs Tenant: Back off, M’Lord, this is none of your concern!

          Landlord: Actually, since neither you own a square inch of this property and, heh, I do, anything found above, below, around, under, and in-between is mine.  (Effortlessly passes through the group, climbs the ladder, removes the jewels, and climbs back down) On an unrelated note, rent’s going up 25% next month.  (Hums tunelessly out the door)

            Tenant: (To Upstairs Tenant) You’re still paying for all this.  (Hacks up a lung)

            Upstairs Tenant: As long as you pay for the hospital bills I’m seeing in my future.

         Contractor: (Looking at phone) While you two sort it all out, I’ve had five other jobs that popped up and since we’re neither profiting off of found treasure or solving the mystery of how they even got up there, I’m off to make some real money.  (Leaves)

         Tenant: Hey!  There’s still a hole in my ceiling!  I don’t want to hear this one (Points to Upstairs Tenant) every time they’re in there!

           Upstairs Tenant: How did that stuff get up there, anyway?

           Tenant: I’m thinking the less we know, the better.  What if whoever put them there comes back looking for them?

           

           [Reader Participation: Leave a comment below or post to @JenPergola on Twitter suggesting an idea on how the jewels got there – I will pick one and write a story around it!]