Andrew did not sleep well. He felt heavy pressure on his chest and found it hard to breathe. The few times he neared consciousness, he concluded that his asthma must be acting up, possibly from whatever animal he could smell, which made no sense since they had no pets. He finally stirred awake to the sound of the shower in the master bath—he had missed 5 am spin class with Alli.
The bedroom light was off, but the bathroom light flooded the room when Alli emerged in a bathrobe as she towel-dried her hair. Andrew glanced up to see a large gorilla seated astride his chest, her eyes watching him warily.
“What the—”
“Hey, babe,” Alli said as she flipped on the light to the walk-in closet. “I tried to wake you for spin class, but she seemed kind of possessive of you, and I figured you might need the rest.”
Andrew stared up at the gorilla who looked down at him with large brown eyes. “Possessive of me? Are you serious?”
Alli went into the closet and began milling around. “Yeah. She motioned kind of menacingly when I tried to wake you.”
“So you just went without me? Left me like this?” His voice grew louder, more irritated. The gorilla immediately lowered a hand to his head and patted it, then placed the hand over his mouth.
Alli popped her head out of the closet. “Sheila doesn’t like it when you raise your voice. She wants you to be calm.”
“Sheila? She has a name?” Andrew exclaimed. Sheila squeezed his cheeks hard and grunted.
“She responded positively when I called her that. Since she wouldn’t let you go, I asked her to be gentle with you, if possible. And to not wake you.”
Andrew wanted to thrash, to scream. His heart pounded, and his stomach twisted with adrenaline. He was sweating intensely. “You didn’t think to call someone? Like the police or something?”
Alli emerged from the closet dressed in a pantsuit, as she put pearl studs in her ears. She looked at him. “Let’s think that through. ‘9-1-1, what’s your emergency?’ ‘Hi, I’m in Bridgewater, Massachusetts, and a gorilla is sitting on my husband. Could you send someone?’ Even if you could get past all the questions they’re gonna ask, what happens next? The cops come flying up with sirens blaring? Sheila freaks out and throws you through a wall? I promise I did the best for you I could.”
Andrew was nearly panting, the pressure on his chest so intense and his own panic growing.
“Are you just going to work?”
“I have to,” she said. “Ted is already after me about our QBR draft.”
Andrew turned his head and stared at Alli. She blew him a kiss. “I’d kiss you, but Sheila wouldn’t like it.”
Sheila grabbed Andrew’s face, turned it back to her, and made a guttural sound.
“Could you at least pass me my phone?” asked Andrew.
Alli walked around the bed and unplugged his phone from the outlet, then placed it near his right hand. “Here, babe. Like I said, I wouldn’t call for help lest you piss her off.” Alli strode quickly from the room, leaving Sheila atop Andrew whose sweat and panic felt overwhelming.
He gazed up at the enormous animal, wanting to thrash, fearing to move. Sheila looked down at him, her face inscrutable to Andrew. She swatted his head, poked his nose, grunted, and bounced lightly. Then, she suddenly moved off him, hopped off the bed, and headed downstairs. Andrew lay shuddering on the bed, listening to Sheila thrash through the kitchen and refrigerator. She was eating! Of course, she would have to eat.
Andrew sat up slowly and looked at his phone. He tapped the green phone icon, which brought him to the keypad. Then he tapped 9, then 1, but just as he was about to hit 1 again, FaceTime lit up. Jack Benson from work. Andrew pressed accept.
“Hey, sorry to buzz you before work,” Jack started.
“It’s cool,” said Andrew, surprised to hear his own voice.
“I sent you those numbers for the SEC filing.” Jack paused. “Dude, you look like hell. You out partying last night?”
“Something like that,” said Andrew.
“Drew, it’s Wednesday. Maybe take it easy during the week?” Jack said as he bobbed along a Plymouth sidewalk, earbuds in.
“It wasn’t that. It was — look, nevermind. I’ll look at those numbers—”
Before he could continue, the whole second floor shuddered as Sheila thundered back upstairs. She stood in the doorway, saw Andrew on the phone, and roared.
“Is that Alli?” said Jack. “Oh man, if I’m interrupting—”
“I gotta go,” Andrew said as he hit ‘End.’
Sheila sprang to the bed, knocking Andrew flat again. She stared down at him and roared again, then thumped his head over and over with each hand. He screamed, but Sheila whacked him harder, then covered his mouth. Tears pouring from his eyes, his heart pounding, body trembling, Andrew stared up at Sheila. He could swear that she pressed her left index finger to her lips to shush him. And so he came to understand that he could neither speak nor move unless he had her permission.
Gordon Law was born in Virginia, raised in Texas, now lives in Massachusetts where he works in curriculum development. His fiction has appeared in Irreantum, The Wrath-Bearing Tree, The Line of Advance, The Words Faire, Cutthroat, The Raven Review, Cosmographia Codex’s Campfire Stories, and As You Were.
Modern Flash Fiction 