Neat Freak, Anyone?

The idea for this one came while I was (surprise, surprise!) vacuuming at work. I have been thinking about characters lately, and how my use and creation of them has expanded so much. Now that I work with so many diverse types of people, from so many (both good and bad) backgrounds, I find that my characters become more flawed, more relatable, and much more believable. Anyway, I’ve read some terrific books that involved some rather silly characters, and I think it’s an area that may be lacking in my work. Can’t take yourself too seriously all the time. ;-)

***

Ænemeon looked at Carla. She shrugged and pointed to the flask, which was glowing.

“Remember where we are?” she whispered, and he nodded reluctantly. He’d known strange things could happen in Corland but he hadn’t anticipated strange people.

The woman hadn’t even noticed them, so preoccupied was she with her task. The vacuum cleaner she held was fairly ancient, with real brass knobs on the side and an elegantly-patterned cover that looked like a carpet bag. Several inches of frayed cord dangled from the top of the apparatus, ending in a jagged tangle of wires protruding from the inside of the plastic tubing. Yet the woman didn’t seem to think it odd that the vacuum hummed, the light on the front glowing as she moved it around. Occasionally Ænemeon heard the crackle of the vacuum cleaner as it picked up dirt around the pillar on the floor.

The woman’s hair was tied up in a rag on her head, and she wore a faded apron over a shirt dress paired with worn sensible shoes. She was completely engrossed in her task, so for several minutes they stared, wondering if she was really the one they had come to find. Yet, the flask was still glowing, so that meant there was something for them here.

At last she noticed them, pausing mid-sweep of the vacuum and setting it upright. When she let go of the handle the vacuum shut off, its hum dying to a whine and finally silence.

“Well, who’s this?” she asked, in a crisp voice. She stepped forward, her shoe heels clacking on the marble as she found the walkway.

Ænemeon and Carla glanced at each other and then smiled at the woman.

“I…” Carla began. “We are looking for Lydina. Do you know her?”

The woman laughed, showing perfect white teeth in her very clean face. “Why yes, of course I do! She’s my twin sister.” She winked conspiratorially at them, and Ænemeon thought uncomfortably about two crazy women with dead vacuums. It didn’t reassure.

 “Great!” he said at last. “Well, if you could tell…her, that we need her assistance in finding something very important, we’d appreciate it.”

The woman smiled again pleasantly. “Why, yes, I can do that. I will be right back!” And she stepped over to her vacuum again, touched the handle (it sputtered to life once again), and vanished in the blink of an eye. Carla and Ænemeon took in sharp breaths, then shrugged to each other.

“I hate to say this, but I really hope she comes back,” Carla said.

“Me too,” Ænemeon grimaced. “Let’s sit down in the meantime,” he suggested, and they sat on the edge of the marble walkway, their boots resting in the Corland dust outside of it.

They waited for what seemed like hours, though in reality it was probably about fifteen minutes. Carla had pulled out her harmonica and was playing it soulfully, the music echoing across the shifting twilight world of Corland. She felt the blues when she was in here, and needed to get some of those feelings out of her and into the air.

Ænemeon listened quietly, pondering the vacuum. Perhaps it had been made especially for her, by the Gyrus. After all, the Gyrus did have enormous power, and he had said he made things to help the people under his care improve their lives in Corland. The mists began not far beyond the pillar where the woman – Lydina’s sister, apparently – had been vacuuming, and farther down to his left and his right he could just barely make out the next pillar. Yet there appeared to be no roof here in Corland, so he had no idea what exactly the pillars were here for.

At last the woman returned with a poof, stirring up dust. She tut-tutted, ignoring the children, and began to vacuum up the dust as it settled. Carla frowned and put her harmonica away, and Ænemeon stepped toward the woman.

“Excuse me?” he said. “Your vacuum can’t work. It isn’t plugged in.”

“I beg your –“ the woman responded, finally seeming to notice him. She hadn’t heard a word of him over the hum of her vacuum cleaner. She let the handle snap upright again, letting it go as the cleaner wound down. “Oh dear. Oh dear, dear me.” She stepped closer to Ænemeon, eyeing him in concern. He looked down at himself, wondering if there was a TraveLeach attached to him. But, no, there wasn’t. Nothing but the blackberry jam from this morning’s toast, dribbled on the front of his shirt pocket and a little dust that had settled into his trousers.

“That won’t do at all,” the woman said, reaching toward Ænemeon. He flinched, wondering exactly what she was going to do, but she reached a finger inside his shirt pocket, rubbing the outside with her thumb, over the blackberry stain. “Your shirt is terribly dirty, dearie,” she said. “Can’t go out like that, you know.”

Ænemeon watched where her fingers touched and saw the stain fading. That was…incredible! He stared at the spot when she lifted her hand, realizing he could not tell at all where the jam had struck his shirt. Odd, since his mother had been annoyed at him for it.

Carla blinked at him, her face striking into a smile. “Well, that’s incredible! Say, what is your name? And were you able to find Lydina?”

Recognition dawned in the woman’s eyes as she turned to Carla. “Ah! I remember why I went to see her, at last. I wasn’t certain if you’d been real or only a dream, and if I was really just longing after one of her seed cakes. They are always so very tidy…” Her eyes drifted apart as she stared at something unseen, and then at last she snapped back to reality, her face falling. “But alas! She is not home. She has not been there for some time, I’d wager. I’m sorry, but Lydina is not nearby, so I can’t sense her or help you.”

“Oh…all right,” Carla responded, crestfallen. She was sorely disappointed, for the Whale had distinctly said to find Lydina to help them and bring her back.

When she gazed at Ænemeon, he had some sort of strange gleam in his eye. She wasn’t certain it was a good gleam, but it was some kind of idea, which was more than she had.

“This…sister of yours,” he began. “Is she like you? Does she vacuum the way you do?”

The woman’s face, which had been troubled, split into a smile again. “Why, yes! In fact most people do not know whether they are talking to one or the other of us. Why do you ask?”

“Well, we were asked by a great Whale to bring Lydina back to help us on our quest. But, since she can’t be found, perhaps you can pretend to be her. Lydina, that is. The Whale won’t give us any more information until we’ve found you.”

The woman’s face paled slightly at the mention of the Whale, but she smiled somewhat nervously, her face thoughtful. “Well…Yes, I do believe I could. After all, I’ve been cleaning Corland dust for so long I feel my hair might have turned grey.” She raised a hand to her hair, which was still a vibrant red beneath the rag.

“So…” Carla licked her lips. “You’ll do it? You’ll be Lydina for us? We promise to let you come back here after we’ve gotten the information we seek.”

The woman nodded slowly, her face brightening. “This sounds like an adventure! I have never seemed to have much time for those before.”

“We always seem to have them,” Ænemeon groaned. “So if that’s what you are looking for, you’ll probably find it with us.”

“That settles it, then!” The woman replied decisively. “This is what I shall do.” She raised a fist, and then extended it to the children. “To adventure!”

Ænemeon glanced at Carla, who rolled her eyes. In a half-hearted gesture, both of them put their hands on her fist, and then Carla touched the flask, whisking them away from the dull grey twilight of Corland.