15
ENG
Iwas up early after a restless night, so I left my hovel to get food and the special coffee with cinnamon and vanilla that I’d grown to enjoy. Then I walked a few additional blocks to a store that carried supplies that humans used to build and repair furnishings and their dwellings. The shrew’s comment last night about making my hovel a sanctuary had intrigued me. I’d been sullenly suffering with the bare white walls, the scratchy carpets, and the uncomfortable furniture as if it were some sort of penance. But I was a prince. I deserved to have luxury around me even if I was to be here only a short time.
Honestly, even those who weren’t princes deserved to have joy and luxury in their dens. I fully intended on following through with this plan to refurbish my hovel and make it less hovel-like, but my trip to the hardware store was for something different.
The store was open, and I was not the only customer at this early hour. Taking one of the wheeled baskets humans used to collect their purchases, I walked down a random aisle to the back where a small selection of lumber was displayed. Looking through the flat pieces, I found a large square of wood that couldserve as the base for my Hnefatafl board. Putting it into the shopping cart, I selected similar piece of darker wood as well.
“Can I help you find anything?”
An overly thin human male smiled at me. A quick glance told me that his stature wasn’t from malnourishment, but from rapid growth and that the crackle in his voice wasn’t nervousness but developing vocal chords. A teenager, the humans called this phase of childhood. His dark hair was a nearly-shaved cap of tight curls and his face bore a few stray hairs that would in a couple of years become the start of beard. His name tag said he was “Jerome.”
“Yes, you may help me, Jerome. I am going to build a Hnefatafl board to play with some new friends. Are you familiar with the game?”
He shook his head. “No, but if you tell me what you need, then I can show you where it is in the store.”
Fair enough. “I need fat rounded wood like a smoothed branch that can be cut into game pieces, and ink or some kind of stain to make the attackers look different from the defenders. Then I need a tool to cut wood, to slice even grooves into this large board, something to etch or burn markings into the board and game pieces, and a gritty cloth to smooth rough edges of the wood.”
The boy grinned. “Stain, sandpaper, a wood-burning tool, and a router. Do you have a garage or a workshop? What sort of tools do you already have?”
“I have no tools with me. I live in an apartment,” I said, for the first time wondering if my hovel would be an issue with this project.
“Then you’ll need a saw. Instead of a big table saw, I’m going to suggest this hobby saw over here. It’s smaller and will store away easily when you’re done. The same with this folding worktable. It can serve as a sawhorse, or it can open up to a flattable top, and it’s got these clamps you can screw into the holes and grooves. It’s perfect for people without a lot of space.”
I let Jerome lead me around the store, filling my cart with tools and other supplies. At the end of one aisle I paused, eyeing a display full of small banners.
“What are these?” I wondered. Back home banners were huge and made of heavy fabric, hung in our halls, banquet rooms, and other gathering places. Each one showed our alliances with different tribes, and the groups that made up our kingdom.
“Garden flags,” Jerome said. “This metal stake has a holder for the flag. You hammer it into the ground, then hook the flag on here. People like to change them out for different seasons, and the material is weather-resistant so it won’t rot in the rain or fade too quickly in the sun.”
“I have no ground in my apartment,” I commented. “Are there larger flags to hang on walls?”
“Oh absolutely. We don’t have the same selection, but here is the Maryland flag, one for Baltimore City. This one has a crab on it, and this one has Old Bay symbols—both are considered Maryland icons. This one is a flag to show LGBTQ pride, and this one is the Italian flag since we have a lot of people with Italian heritage in this area. Oh, and there’s the United States flag, but there are certain protocols with that one. It should never touch the ground, and it should always have a light on it if it’s dark. And if it gets old or you no longer want it, you need to take it to a specific place for disposal.”
I nodded, appreciating the respect with which humans treated these important symbols. Putting the Maryland one in my cart, I also grabbed a battery-operated light that could be mounted on the wall under the flag.
The flag was a start, but there were other items I wanted to make my hovel feel a bit more like home, and none of them appeared to be sold in this store.
“Where in this city can I purchase art?” I asked Jerome. “As well as carpets, furniture, and bedding, all of the highest quality?”
Jerome blinked. “Umm, there are some art galleries in the Seton Hill area. Probably a few around Druid Hill as well. I don’t really know about carpets or bedding, but there are a couple of places in Hampden that have furniture.”
I made a mental note, wondering if I would have time today to visit any of these places.
My cart was close to overflowing, and as we neared the area to pay, I realized it was unlikely I’d be able to carry all these items to my hovel in one trip.
“Would you like us to deliver this?” Jerome asked. “My uncle is heading out this morning with an order of tile. I can have him drop it off at your apartment for fifty bucks.”
“Thank you. I would like that.”
I’d intended to go over to play games with the old humans, but could wait for the delivery. And then I could spend the rest of my day working on the game board and pieces until I needed to meet the shrew for dinner and wooing.
Wooing. Was that what I was doing? I’d fed her last night. I’d fed this shrew the choicest bits of food and had enjoyed every moment of it. The act satisfied something primal in me. I enjoyed her company, hearing her stories about her family and her work. I enjoyed her body, the way her eyes grew unfocused with pleasure at my touch, the way she gasped as I brought her to climax. I did not want to let her go, but when I thought of the shrew it was here, in this human world. Try as I might, I could not see her taking the role as my bride, or as the future queen of my kingdom. But lately I thought less about how she was not themeek bride I’d hoped to ignore aside from producing offspring, and more about how unhappy she’d most likely be in that role.
Fertility wouldn’t be an issue if she took after her parents, but I had no idea if the shrew wanted human children, let alone orclets. She seemed to really enjoy her job, and I couldn’t imagine how she would be able to do that in my kingdom. We already did exercises on our own, and a human’s exercises would probably not be of any value to us. And her family…. She spent a lot of time with them. She would not want to spend her life performing the duties of a princess and eventually a queen instead of the job she loved, and she would not want to give up regularly seeing her family.
It wouldn’t work long term, but I couldn’t give her up. Not right now. So I’d stay as long as I could, enjoy my feisty shrew for as long as I could, then spend the rest of my life trying to survive without her.
