"There you are. I've been searching the whole office for you."
"I haven't been here."
"Oh. That explains the 'not finding you' part, then. Where in heaven's name have you been? Our readers have been waiting to hear the rest of the story."
"I don't know that we actually have any readers, Marvin."
"..."
"Don't look at me like that."
"..."
"OK. Sorry, Marvin. First were the holidays, then I had some work to finish up at my other job, then..."
"Which was...?"
"You promised me we'd never discuss my other job here."
"Fair enough. So you were saying?"
"Well then I got a terrible stomach virus as a result of some meds I've been taking."
"Meds?"
"I'm not going to discuss that either. You can ask me about the stomach virus, though."
"Phil, when did we become so distanced? You used to tell me everything."
"And I still do."
"You aren't now."
"That's because I'm writing the new blog entry, Marvin, and everything we say to each other comes out on the screen."
"What?! Why is that? When did that start?"
"What: just what I said. We talk, it gets printed. When: right from the moment we started writing the first entry. Or maybe the second. I don't remember now. I've been away."
"Yes, and..."
"And why? I don't know, I don't ask. I just type."
"I guess we can discuss this later."
"That would probably be wise."
"So what about the stomach virus?"
"Oh, on second thought, could we not talk about that right now?"
"Why not? Now you've changed your mind? Phillip?"
"Marvin..."
"Phil, answer me!"
"Marvin, please..."
"TELL ME ABOUT THE STOMACH VIRUS, PHIL!"
"Marvin..."
"Why are you whispering?"
"Marvin, look at the screen."
"..."
"..."
"Oh."
"..."
"Um. Well. Can you erase that?"
"I don't think so."
"I see."
"I hope so. Can I tell the next part of the story now?"
"You left off with making me a bed."
"Yes I did, my little hairy one."
"I'll always cherish the memory of that first bed."
"You're lucky I had a matchbox. I never kept matches in the house as a rule."
"And the cotton balls?"
"They were just leftovers from a previous girlfriend. She was in the habit of cleaning her pores. And she used to make fuzzy Christmas cards with fake snow."
"Oh, I love that kind of card. So nice to walk across. Yes, please go on with the story."
I suppose there's no more need to finish my opening sentence anymore, so on with the story...
I woke the next morning bleary-eyed as usual, but anxious to get out of bed and start the day. I'd had the strangest dream some time in the night - talking animals, some horrendous monster in my bedroom, walking outside and hearing voices - and I caught a glimpse of something on the bedside table.
The dream made all sorts of sense now, and the previous days events came to back to me quickly.
Marvin. His name is Marvin.
He seemed so snug sleeping there that I decided not to disturb him. Still, I could hardly wait until he woke up. I had a question to ask him urgently, a question that was driving me mad.
I went into the kitchen and got the percolator going. While I waited for the gurgling to begin, I made scrambled eggs and toast, and I squeezed a couple of oranges, pouring the juice into a glass.
As I sat down at the dining room table, I heard a small, familiar voice.
"Coffee! Eggs! And juice juice juice juice JUICE!"
"You forgot the toast." He was sitting among the plastic fruit I had in a bowl as a centerpiece. Actually, he was doing something more like lounging on the fake green grapes. His legs splayed about. He looked quite comfortable.
"Well I thought it went without saying. How can you serve eggs without toast?"
"Good observation. Would you like some?"
I got up as he replied "I sure would! Thanks," and looked around the kitchen counter, opened a few drawers, and then finally found something appropriate. A plastic lid I had stuffed in a junk drawer. I rinsed it under the faucet and dried it with a kitchen towel. I brought it to the table and sat down again. Marvin had climbed down from the fruit and was sitting by my plate.
Hmm... What about the juice? And the coffee?
While I thought about it, I started preparing his plate. I cut off a bit of toast and placed it on the upturned lid, then I took a small pile of eggs with a teaspoon and added them to the toast.
"That looks delicious. Thanks, Phil."
"How did you sleep?" I asked, by way of making conversation, though the real question I wanted to ask was nothing so mundane.
"Wonderfully. You know, I find lots of discarded human stuff that I can put to use. One man's trash is another man's treasure, as I read in a newspaper article once."
"You read the newspaper?"
"Once in a while. Well a few articles anyway. You can't imagine how tiring it is crawling across all those pages of text. Usually one article per week is enough for me. I learn a little about your world and get some exercise."
"It beats running away from cats."
"I suppose it would." And then I knew the answer to at least one question. "Wait! I've got it!"
"Excuse me?"
"Just a sec."
I went back to the kitchen, opened the junk drawer, and scowled. I ran back through the dining room and into the bathroom. (Don't get the wrong idea; my house wasn't that big - from the kitchen to the bathroom was maybe 20 meters, a total of about six or seven bounding strides.) I opened the medicine cabinet and found two small bottles of eye drops that were both well past their expiration date. I unscrewed the caps of both, gave the caps a good washing, and returned with them to the table, carefully transferring a bit of coffee into one and a bit of juice into the other. Marvin stared at me agog.
"You're a real gentleman, Phil."
"Thank you." I took a bite of toast. "Marvin," I said, "you know, I'm sorry about last night. I just have a bit of an insect phobia."
"Yeah, I got that from our conversation."
"Yes, well, and...I mean to say, simply, that I'm sorry. And I want you to know that I'd be really pleased if you decided to stay."
"You mean it?"
"I wouldn't say so if I didn't." He beamed at this. "But there's something I really need to ask you."
"Shoot. Anything. What's on your mind?"
"Where on earth did you get the tiny Santa Claus hat?"
"From my stash. One man's trash is another man's treasure. It probably fell off somebody's Christmas ornament or something. And, well, I found it before they did."
"Somebody's Christmas ornament?"
"I've been around, Phil."
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