[op] The Death of Balthazar
Oh god this fic. Written for the first workshop of my creative writing class, it details the fictional trials of the second years in my house as we struggle through a similar situation. Wooden gnomes, who'd have thought???
Title: The Death of Balthazar
Warnings: none
Summary: "One of us has to go, and it isn't going to be me."
It was a wooden gnome and it was five feet tall. Hand carved and smoothed with years of affectionate handling, it stood stiff and sightless in the common area. Jessy stepped out of the elevator and saw it right away, in its post in the corner like a sentry. She eyed it cautiously and scampered away and knocked frantically at Hugo’s door.
“There’s a gnome,” she said.
“I know,” he said, barely surprised.
“There’s a gnome,” she repeated. “And it’s standing in the hallway. Where did it come from?” She was almost giddy from the absurdity of it all. “There’s a wooden gnome and it’s standing in the hallway.”
“Calm down,” Hugo said, ushering her into his room before she could burst into hysterics in the hallway. He sat her down on the floor and handed her a lukewarm cup of tea. She stared blankly into the dark water. “Are you okay now?”
“I think so.”
“One of the new tenants in the apartment brought it along with him when he moved in. Something about it being his grandfather’s or something?” He shrugged and went back to the kitchen.
“That doesn’t explain a thing,” Jessy insisted, trailing after him and clutching the tea like an anchor. “Why would he bring such a thing into the building and just put it outside the elevator?”
“It doesn’t fit in his room and he thought it would brighten the place up a little.”
“It’s a gnome,” she repeated for the fourth time, breaking her shell-shocked expression to give him a critical look. “The hallway is turquoise, the lights don’t work, and there’s a musty smell that’s been there since the dawn of time, and a gnome is going to brighten the place a little?”
Hugo ignored her. “He lives down the hall.”
Jessy paid the new tenant a visit.
“Balthazar?” the new tenant (he gave Jessy a name - Harry or Joe or whatever common name - but he was forever ‘the new tenant’ until the gnome was figured out) asked happily when she began with a thinly veiled reference to the wooden atrocity outside the elevator. “Isn’t he neat? My grandfather carved him back in the day after he came back from the War.”
“Is he,” she said, biting back a comment - no, she should have used it - “a relic? Is it a good idea to put him in such a…public area if he’s so important to you?”
“Naw,” the new tenant laughed. He had a guitar strapped around his chest and a cowboy hat on his head cocked artistically to indicate that he was a go-with-the-flow kind of guy. Jessy found it all strangely kitschy. “He doesn’t really fit in my apartment. I thought he’d be nice to have around, like a greeter except he doesn’t talk.”
“You could throw it away,” Jessy suggested, proud of herself for using the appropriate pronoun.
The new tenant choked at her. “Throw it away?” he sputtered as if she had suggested he cut his leg off to feed to Balthazar. Though with his reaction, it was probably the way he’d respond if she asked the other way around. “Balthazar is an addition to the apartment’s décor! People love him!” Almost as if to spite her, the quaint little old woman a few doors down got off the elevator and cooed at the wooden gnome. The new tenant gave her a triumphant look and did not quite slam the door in her face.
“I’m going to burn that thing,” Jessy hissed after four beers in Hugo’s living room again, where she did her best scheming. He wordlessly drank from his own bottle and listened to her. At this rate, it was best not to interrupt. “I’m going to light it on fire. What does it think it’s doing, right there, staring and judging?”
“What’s wrong with it?” Hugo ventured.
“Have you seen it?” she cried, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s an eyesore! It’s tacky and unnecessary! And the worst part is that people like that thing! They say hello to it!” She glared at him. “I’ve lived three years here and I have never laid eyes on something so unnecessary in my life.”
“Those aren’t actually reasons to destroy it.”
“It’s going to go,” Jessy vowed, deciding the floor was a very comfortable space and sprawled sloppily as Hugo began thinking of ways to get her back in her room. “One of us is going to disappear and it isn’t going to be me.”
The first attempt to rid the apartment of Balthazar was, admittedly, a failure as the new tenant found Hugo trying to wrestle a drunken Jessy away from the unresponsive gnome in the hallway. The new tenant took the entire situation in stride, but Jessy figured he didn’t have a need to be alarmed since Balthazar was still intact and irritating in the morning as she struggled through a hangover.
The second attempt was successful, but only temporarily as the new tenant fished Balthazar out of the trashcan outside the apartment before it could be properly disposed. The new tenant did not confront her, though Jessy suspected he knew by the looks he gave her from then on and an ambiguous note on the noticeboard in the front office about respecting the apartment’s furnishings.
The third attempt was a failure as the gnome did not fit through the window in the hallway. Jessy started to consider that idea that she was getting a little desperate when she caught herself thinking about slathering the gnome in gasoline and throwing a match during one of her shifts at the bookstore.
“The gnome is ruining my life,” she said conversationally to Hugo. She had wanted him to be a companion in crime but he had wanted nothing of it. While he did not join her in her destructive endeavors, he did not stop her and often stood at a distance watching amusedly as she studied Balthazar in front of the elevator. “It’s evil. It taunts me during each failure.”
“You should get out more,” Hugo offered.
In the fourth month of Balthazar’s inhabitance of the apartment, Jessy discovered the gaping crack in its side. It had always been angled in a way that hid the deformity and it wasn’t until she shifted it and ran her hands down it that she found her fingers in the wooden atrocity. Upon further inspection, Balthazar’s insides did not seem to be buffed and she pulled her fingers out to avoid a splinter. Balthazar was hollowed out to make it lighter and easier to transport, but Jessy hadn’t considered that potential before.
After three weeks, Balthazar was carried out of the apartment for disposal after mold had been discovered festering within its hollow. The new tenant - she supposed she could finally call him James - insisted Balthazar could still be cleaned and made good again. Hugo stood with her as she watched the gnome get carried away with a distraught James trailing after. “You wouldn’t happen to know how that happened, would you?” he asked, as Jessy looked apathetically on. “After so long without a problem, suddenly he began to mold.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jessy shrugged, barely hiding a grin. The spray bottle sitting in the kitchen had been used to spritz her houseplants, nothing more. “The end of an era,” she breathed, relieved, and turned to go back inside. She gave the gnome enough dignity to disappear from the premises to its demise without her watching it.
A few days later, Jessy opened her door to take the trash out and found Balthazar’s head, severed from the rest of its body, sitting neatly upon her doorstep. Her scream and subsequent faint drew James from his place down the hall, and the sight of Balthazar’s head treated him to the same fate.
Hugo watched the entire thing, hidden behind the crack in his door, and shook his head. “I liked Balthazar,” he sighed.
Title: The Death of Balthazar
Warnings: none
Summary: "One of us has to go, and it isn't going to be me."
It was a wooden gnome and it was five feet tall. Hand carved and smoothed with years of affectionate handling, it stood stiff and sightless in the common area. Jessy stepped out of the elevator and saw it right away, in its post in the corner like a sentry. She eyed it cautiously and scampered away and knocked frantically at Hugo’s door.
“There’s a gnome,” she said.
“I know,” he said, barely surprised.
“There’s a gnome,” she repeated. “And it’s standing in the hallway. Where did it come from?” She was almost giddy from the absurdity of it all. “There’s a wooden gnome and it’s standing in the hallway.”
“Calm down,” Hugo said, ushering her into his room before she could burst into hysterics in the hallway. He sat her down on the floor and handed her a lukewarm cup of tea. She stared blankly into the dark water. “Are you okay now?”
“I think so.”
“One of the new tenants in the apartment brought it along with him when he moved in. Something about it being his grandfather’s or something?” He shrugged and went back to the kitchen.
“That doesn’t explain a thing,” Jessy insisted, trailing after him and clutching the tea like an anchor. “Why would he bring such a thing into the building and just put it outside the elevator?”
“It doesn’t fit in his room and he thought it would brighten the place up a little.”
“It’s a gnome,” she repeated for the fourth time, breaking her shell-shocked expression to give him a critical look. “The hallway is turquoise, the lights don’t work, and there’s a musty smell that’s been there since the dawn of time, and a gnome is going to brighten the place a little?”
Hugo ignored her. “He lives down the hall.”
Jessy paid the new tenant a visit.
“Balthazar?” the new tenant (he gave Jessy a name - Harry or Joe or whatever common name - but he was forever ‘the new tenant’ until the gnome was figured out) asked happily when she began with a thinly veiled reference to the wooden atrocity outside the elevator. “Isn’t he neat? My grandfather carved him back in the day after he came back from the War.”
“Is he,” she said, biting back a comment - no, she should have used it - “a relic? Is it a good idea to put him in such a…public area if he’s so important to you?”
“Naw,” the new tenant laughed. He had a guitar strapped around his chest and a cowboy hat on his head cocked artistically to indicate that he was a go-with-the-flow kind of guy. Jessy found it all strangely kitschy. “He doesn’t really fit in my apartment. I thought he’d be nice to have around, like a greeter except he doesn’t talk.”
“You could throw it away,” Jessy suggested, proud of herself for using the appropriate pronoun.
The new tenant choked at her. “Throw it away?” he sputtered as if she had suggested he cut his leg off to feed to Balthazar. Though with his reaction, it was probably the way he’d respond if she asked the other way around. “Balthazar is an addition to the apartment’s décor! People love him!” Almost as if to spite her, the quaint little old woman a few doors down got off the elevator and cooed at the wooden gnome. The new tenant gave her a triumphant look and did not quite slam the door in her face.
“I’m going to burn that thing,” Jessy hissed after four beers in Hugo’s living room again, where she did her best scheming. He wordlessly drank from his own bottle and listened to her. At this rate, it was best not to interrupt. “I’m going to light it on fire. What does it think it’s doing, right there, staring and judging?”
“What’s wrong with it?” Hugo ventured.
“Have you seen it?” she cried, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s an eyesore! It’s tacky and unnecessary! And the worst part is that people like that thing! They say hello to it!” She glared at him. “I’ve lived three years here and I have never laid eyes on something so unnecessary in my life.”
“Those aren’t actually reasons to destroy it.”
“It’s going to go,” Jessy vowed, deciding the floor was a very comfortable space and sprawled sloppily as Hugo began thinking of ways to get her back in her room. “One of us is going to disappear and it isn’t going to be me.”
The first attempt to rid the apartment of Balthazar was, admittedly, a failure as the new tenant found Hugo trying to wrestle a drunken Jessy away from the unresponsive gnome in the hallway. The new tenant took the entire situation in stride, but Jessy figured he didn’t have a need to be alarmed since Balthazar was still intact and irritating in the morning as she struggled through a hangover.
The second attempt was successful, but only temporarily as the new tenant fished Balthazar out of the trashcan outside the apartment before it could be properly disposed. The new tenant did not confront her, though Jessy suspected he knew by the looks he gave her from then on and an ambiguous note on the noticeboard in the front office about respecting the apartment’s furnishings.
The third attempt was a failure as the gnome did not fit through the window in the hallway. Jessy started to consider that idea that she was getting a little desperate when she caught herself thinking about slathering the gnome in gasoline and throwing a match during one of her shifts at the bookstore.
“The gnome is ruining my life,” she said conversationally to Hugo. She had wanted him to be a companion in crime but he had wanted nothing of it. While he did not join her in her destructive endeavors, he did not stop her and often stood at a distance watching amusedly as she studied Balthazar in front of the elevator. “It’s evil. It taunts me during each failure.”
“You should get out more,” Hugo offered.
In the fourth month of Balthazar’s inhabitance of the apartment, Jessy discovered the gaping crack in its side. It had always been angled in a way that hid the deformity and it wasn’t until she shifted it and ran her hands down it that she found her fingers in the wooden atrocity. Upon further inspection, Balthazar’s insides did not seem to be buffed and she pulled her fingers out to avoid a splinter. Balthazar was hollowed out to make it lighter and easier to transport, but Jessy hadn’t considered that potential before.
After three weeks, Balthazar was carried out of the apartment for disposal after mold had been discovered festering within its hollow. The new tenant - she supposed she could finally call him James - insisted Balthazar could still be cleaned and made good again. Hugo stood with her as she watched the gnome get carried away with a distraught James trailing after. “You wouldn’t happen to know how that happened, would you?” he asked, as Jessy looked apathetically on. “After so long without a problem, suddenly he began to mold.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jessy shrugged, barely hiding a grin. The spray bottle sitting in the kitchen had been used to spritz her houseplants, nothing more. “The end of an era,” she breathed, relieved, and turned to go back inside. She gave the gnome enough dignity to disappear from the premises to its demise without her watching it.
A few days later, Jessy opened her door to take the trash out and found Balthazar’s head, severed from the rest of its body, sitting neatly upon her doorstep. Her scream and subsequent faint drew James from his place down the hall, and the sight of Balthazar’s head treated him to the same fate.
Hugo watched the entire thing, hidden behind the crack in his door, and shook his head. “I liked Balthazar,” he sighed.