A Clothing Dilema
The morning was calm as usual; bright skies and not a cloud in the sky. John lifted his head, rubbing his eyes from the strange dream he had last night. It was something about a hippie girl in a dress. The dream seemed to be realistic enough to fool John into thinking he lived in Colorado.
He came to and saw that the blanket next to him was altered. This could only mean one thing: Lucia awoke early to bring him breakfast. This gave him the tingles as he lifted his blanket to find himself in only his boxer shorts; cotton and stretchy, just the way he liked it. Upon leaving his bed, he reached over to a seat and pulled on his pajama pants and shirt and went the kitchen.
The kitchen of this apartment was small, but he found it to be all they needed. Sitting at the dining room table, was a brunette woman drinking her coffee. She looked towards him, smiling. The woman was around John’s age, and had a smile that rivaled the Mona Lisa’s.
“You sleep okay?” She asked with her playful smile. Her voice was sweet, with a hint of East German.
John’s smiling silence said it all. He just walked on over and kissed her on the forehead. He was happy to see her. He didn’t want to spoil the day by telling her he had dreamt of another woman. He remembered he had to get ready to start his patrol. Being a police officer in a Los Angeles wasn’t easy.
He walked over to the bathroom to see Lucia again, this time with a scrap of paper in her hand. It was a lottery ticket. She looked to him and said, “I’ll be home around five. That’s when the numbers are announced. Who knows, maybe I’m a winner with this one!”
“Lucia, stop buying those! They’re nothing but a scam!” John scolded her. She did not move, yet she continued to smile at him. He grew scared; he could sense something was wrong.
A knock came at the door and John suddenly stood before it. He opened the door to find two familiar officers standing with their hands gripping their holstered guns.
“Juan Alvarez,” they said, “you are under arrest for the murder of Lucia Grimmer.” They reached for him as they read him his rights, over and over again. Lucia smiled and waved at him from the dining room table, as the dark hands of his co-workers covered his eyes.
________________
“AAAAAAHHHHHH! I didn’t kill her!” John’s face was covered in sweat. He checked his surroundings. Same king size bed, same oak dresser, same figurines from the Batman series, same computer, all the things he had for the past three years were the same, except for the girl. He cupped his hands over his eyes, weeping to himself. “Why can’t I wake up from this dream?” he grumbled to himself.
He heard some light or careful footsteps coming by the door. He did not uncover his eyes,but continued to weep. The steps were soft and slow, as if someone was trying to come in without disturbing him.
“Um, Mister John, are you alright?” asked the soft worried voice. “I heard you scream and thought maybe you hurt your hoof or something.”
The word ‘hoof’ woke him up from his trance of self-pity. “It’s a hand,” he said as he took his hand and showed it off, “and don’t worry, it was just a bad…”
He stopped at the sight of the pink haired woman standing before him. He had just realized her etiquette was not the same as a normal American’s. One thing was for sure though: she was well trimmed for a hippie.
“Is something wrong? Your face is red.”
John grabbed a small blanket from his feet and threw it at her. “Put some clothes on!” he shouted. She covered herself with the blanket and rushed back to her room. He raced after her, apologizing and hoping she didn’t get the wrong message. She bolted into her room and hid behind the bed. John paused at the door.
“Look, I’m sorry if I scared you.” This was the only thing he could think of saying.
She shivered as she squatted behind the bed. “Why did you throw the blanket at me?”
“Well, uh,” he stood there stammering from the shock. “Well… you were naked... you see in polite society, a woman can’t be standing... naked when she’s with company.”
“But… I never wore clothes before and it didn’t get me in trouble…” She shook.
“Well that was different. Here we wear clothes to cover ourselves to appear appropriate, keep warm, and cover our genitals.” He was getting a bit technical.
“Genitals?” She asked as she stood up.
“The… the thing between your thighs and those…” he gestured, making bowls over his chest, still looking away.
She took one look at them and saw his red face. She dropped back onto the floor.
“Listen, you just need to keep them covered and you will be fine,” he said, looking at the ceiling.
The woman peeked over the bed, her face as red as an apple, and thought over what he said.
“Come on, let’s pick some clothes for you” he said as he walked to the closet and reached into the bag of clothing they received from the Evans. He pulled out some pants, a shirt and a sweater. But he noticed something was missing.
‘She doesn’t have any lingerie’ he thought to himself, ‘She can’t go around commando, it’s just not right. All she had was a cloth wrapped around her under her dress, or that’s what Mrs. Evans told us.’ He continued to think to himself, looking away from the woman as she was getting dressed.
“Umm… John?” asked the woman. “Is this okay?”
John turned to her. She wore the shirt with the tag on the sticking out of her chest. She stood there with a look of discomfort and embarrassment. John ran his hand through his hair, sighing in disbelief.
“The tag has to be on the back, inside the shirt.” He told her as calmly as he could. He tried not to think he was dealing with an overgrown toddler.
She turned around, taking off her shirt and turning it over. Her hand continued to slip constantly as if she didn’t know how to use them.
When she finished struggling with an everyday battle everyone over the age of eight had mastered, John noticed she was still uncomfortable, as she pinched at her pants. His mind went back to a time in kindergarten when he wore pants but had refused to put on underwear. He could feel her pain. Not wanting to have her suffer, he came up with an idea.
“Come on,” he said as he lifted himself, “let’s eat some breakfast, and then afterwards we’ll go get you some undergarments.”
She tilted her head.
“Unless you want to stay uncomfortable in those clothes?”
Her faced turned an adorable shade of pink. Her eyes turned away from him, looking at the night stand. Finally, he turned back with a curious face as she came with one question. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Well either cereal or eggs…” He paused, having realized the word. He stood with a guilty smile awaiting the barrage of angry words. Something about women makes him awkward around in his speech.
“Can I have scrambled eggs?”
The shock slapped him in the face like an angry woman. ‘She had just screamed at me last night for eating meat, but she is willing to eat eggs?’ John pondered. ‘Well, best to not look a gift horse in the mouth’ he told himself, not wanting to bring up the question.
The woman looked at him, noticed something was wrong. She saw his face, churning with confusion. She didn’t understand why.
“I’ll go get started on those eggs.” He said with a sheepish smile. The smile slid from his face as he turned around. The woman was left alone believing that she did something wrong. She followed him into the kitchen and watched as he gathered the ingredients. John didn’t notice, He had his mind busy with the fact that most vegetarians he’d met didn’t even use butter.
The eggs came out moderately good considering fact John wasn’t the best at keeping his mind clear when cooking. Usually he made his eggs with bacon grease and thus wasn’t accustomed to using vegetable oil. He also fried some green onions, thinking she would want a vegetable as a side.
He came to the table and saw her still struggling to sit with the two plates of egg and green onions. The table was set, except for one thing. He grabbed some tortillas and heated them over the stove fire. From the flame he tossed them onto a thin tablecloth to keep them warm, just like his mother did. If only he had them on a container so he didn’t burn his hands.
“What are those?” she asked, pointing at the cloth.
“Tortillas,” he replied with a smile, “technically flat bread”
She lifted one up, analyzing the bread.
“You eat like this.” he said as he demonstrated by taking a piece and grabbing a scoop of egg. As he took a bite out of it, he looked at the woman. She slowly tried to do the same, failing at her first attempt. He giggled. “You have to wrap it around the egg.” John clarified. She gave an embarrassed look as she followed his instructions.
The next few minutes went normally. The woman then paused from eating and looked at him with wonder.
“Um, Mister John?”
John looked at her, the onion hanging out of his mouth.
“Can I ask you something? I mean, if it’s alright with you…’
“Sure, ask away.”
“Umm…” she hesitated on asking, “Why were you screaming in your sleep?”
In his surprise the onion slid into his throat. He silently gagged on his breakfast as she looked around.
“Was it a bad dream?” She continued asking, completely unaware of the near-death of her caregiver.
John took the stem out of his mouth, breathing heavily. He took his time to recover before he gave his answer. “Just a dream. You shouldn’t worry about it.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry into something personal, I was just…” she gave the cutest squeak he had ever heard. It made John giggle, even after she almost made him choke.
“Well, it’s not that uncommon for a person to talk in their sleep while under stress.”
“Oh, am I too much of a bother?” She asked shying away from looking at him. “I could go back to the forest if you want.”
“No, no, no.” John protested. “It’s not you so much as it is my own problems. I don’t want you to go.” He thought through what he said, as to not offend her. “I just went to the doctor and he gave me some bad news. Not like cancer bad, but still it shocked me.”
“Oh, well…” Fluttershy took a look at his guilty smile, “Doctors can be scary, can’t they?”
John’s smile turned true as the subject changed. “Well, yeah. But they are here to help.”
‘Which reminds me,’ John thought to himself, ‘I need to make an appointment for her, just to make sure she didn’t catch something in the forest.’ He hoped she didn’t have an infection.
Breakfast was finished and the dishes washed, so John got busy washing. John took the time to reevaluate the situation as he washed the pan.
“Okay, let’s get this straight,” he thought aloud to himself. “I now have a woman in my house who detests meat, but she enjoys eating egg. Not that it bothers me but it gets confusing. She also doesn’t have any shame, which I guess comes from living away from civilization. But that means she didn’t have clothes to begin with. That will cost me about two hundred to get her clothes now that I believe she’ll be staying with me.’ He rubbed his temples as he thought of the main problem. ‘What will the neighbors think?’ He was barraged by thoughts of how the neighbors would react. ‘Earl already saw her and he thought unclean things about her,’ John recalled the look on his face when he saw her. ‘Mrs. Blain, my other neighbor, is a known gossip. How will she see it?” His head was spinning from all the assumptions.
“Mr. John?” called Fluttershy, “what are these?”
John took a second to dry his hands before marching out of the kitchen. The scene was something he hasn’t seen for months. The living room was clean, well almost. Fluttershy stood over piled up garbage and organized jackets. In her hand were DVD boxes, the thing she was questionable about.
“Those are my discs” John called out.
Fluttershy stood questioning their use. “What are they for?”
“Some of them are games and others are movies.” He just realized she probably hadn’t.
“Games?” she asked slowly, making a tossing motion while looking at him quizzically.
“No.” John rubbed his eyes, calming himself down. “Have you ever seen a DVD player or an Xbox?”
Fluttershy shook her head and continued to analyze them.
“Oh right…” he remembered she lived in the forest before coming to town.
“The ones in the black containers are movies, and the others are video games.”
She looked at him in surprise. “I thought movies only came in reels.”
“Well, not anymore…” John didn’t want to get into a discussion on the wonders of technology. He looked at the piles of trash. They were organized by material and food waste. The pizza boxes were at one corner and the foam containers were next to the couch. John was surprised about the organization, to say the least. “You organized the trash…”
‘Yes, umm… don’t you?”
John was more surprised by the fact that she knew what to organize beforehand. He expected her to not even know what plastic was or that it was recyclable. “Well, let’s we clean this up before we get going.” He remembered promising to clean in the morning.
“Go where?” she asked tilting her head.
“Well, to get you some proper clothes and… undergarments.” He said the last word almost under his breath. John still was embarrassed by the fact he hadn’t bought underwear for a woman before, not even for his ex-girlfriend.
Fluttershy blushed, getting slowly placing the plastic boxes down. “Where will we get them?”
“The store,” John said slowly, “it’s where you can by anything.” His mouth was faster than his foot.
“I know what a store is.” She replied in an annoyed tone. She apologized as fast as she retorted, “sorry for snapping at you…” a squeak followed as she closed her eyes expecting to be struck.
John hadn’t felt like such an ass in months.
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No comments yet? Really? Alright.
Well, I loved the story so far. I do however hope to see longer chapters and more so a better building of Fluttershy and who she is, aside from just her discomfort in real life.
Keep up the good work.
i like the story, and i'm very interested in his past. i cant wait for the next chapter.
Im enjoying the story so far.. I love fluttershy and have read most of the fan fics out there with her and i think your doing a pretty good job displaying her character in the book. Looking forward to reading the next chapters
I am NYLOCKE! DRAGON OF AMUSING FANFICTION!
East German....sweet. ... east german is the stereotypical ... how do I put it... it's got a pretty nasty reputation. In german movies a character with an east german accent is almost every time a hillbilly like simpleton it gets worse the thicker the accent.
7398752
So you're saying that the stereotype is "East German = southern American redneck" or something? Despite different countries, histories, and cultures?
That's...kind of odd.
one sentence which saved the whole fic.