It was a night like
every other night, back to the door. Normally, I would bring my Nintendo 3ds to
keep me occupied, but my God damn kids took my charger while I was sleeping. It
isn’t all bad. It really isn’t. I normally find ways to entertain myself in the
night either by writing or reading. I would even spend time thinking about
things I learned.
I make it to the post
and relieve Frank so he can get some sleep before his 8AM Class. He is trying
to become a chef, which I cannot be anymore thankful for. I have become his
guinea pig for his latest recipes and a fan of his Potato Soup.
“Good Evening!” Frank
shouts as he sees me approaching him. “I have more Potato Soup for you!”
“Any new ingredients?”
I said, trying to not to sound too excited. I probably thought about his
cooking more than I like to admit. I may be married, but my wife is the queen
of the frozen family dinners. Her specialty is Lasagna, Salisbury steak, rib
patties, and Parmesan chicken. Repeat. All frozen and just twenty minutes in
the microwave. I don’t mind. I really don’t. I just think it would be nice to
try something home made.
“It’s the original
potato soup!” He said as he picks up a deep pot. “I have a lot of it, and I
know you like it.”
“You know it will be
gone by morning.” I said as the normally routine joke that we always had. I
reached for the pot and inhaled deeply and my mouth fills with saliva.
“Have a good night!”
Frank says as he disappears into the night.
Now, I have to spend
the next ten hours watching a door. What’s behind the door, you wonder? I wish
I could tell, but I am not quite sure myself. Some farmers, who stumbled on it
while looking for their kids, recently discovered it. They think it’s like a
gateway to hell or something like that. Who knows? I needed a better job to pay
for the American dream. It was either that or to get out of the house and away
from the wife. I’ll let you decide.
Hours have passed and
the Potato soup was pretty much done for. I sat firmly at the post as I was
anticipating something bad to happen even though nothing ever does.
Knock, Knock, Knock!
KNOCK!
I jumped. I normally
wouldn’t admit, but I was not expecting someone to be knocking on the door from
Hell or whatever it leads to.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
As much as I thought
I could ignore it, I really couldn’t. There weren’t any protocols for someone
knocking, but I was raised not to let a ringing phone go unanswered. I wasn’t
going to let the door go unanswered. So I opened the door.
Five little men came
out. They looked almost like Oompa Loompas from that Willy Wonka movie, except
that they weren’t that weird skin color. The men went straight to the pot. They
had to stand on their tippy toes to look inside of it like they had to verify
the contents, then two of the men grabbed the pot and carried it out of the
door as the last three men stood guard at the door with giant grins on their
faces.
“What are you guys?”
I asked. They just continued to stand there and grin. I was confused and
curious on what was going on so I tried to look over the three guards. Then,
out of nowhere, one of the men pushed me down. It was almost body builder
strength. Seconds later, the two men came back out with another pot of Potato
Soup.

