{"id":2227,"date":"2021-03-27T16:06:47","date_gmt":"2021-03-27T23:06:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2227"},"modified":"2021-03-27T16:06:47","modified_gmt":"2021-03-27T23:06:47","slug":"let-them-play","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2021\/03\/27\/let-them-play\/","title":{"rendered":"Let Them Play"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

prompt: Write about a mischievous pixie or trickster god.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

available at Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Horace A. Grimwald was, to any casual observer, a serious little man of indeterminate age with comically thick glasses and salt-and-pepper hair. Closer inspection would show that behind his coke-bottle glasses his bright, green eyes were flanked by laugh lines, and the few other wrinkles he had were consistent with someone who smiled a lot more than he seemed to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His employees knew him as a collection of self-contradictions. Horace encouraged his employees to personalize their workspace, but the only decoration on his desk was a hand-carved raccoon, that looked over a hundred years old. While not given to overt frivolity himself, he excused his employees\u2019 frequent tomfoolery with a wink and a smile. Easily old enough to be a parent, if not grandparent, to all his employees, he still insisted on first names and that they all treat each other as siblings. Despite looking like someone who would be at home in a suit, he wore only jeans and band t-shirts, ranging from death metal to EDM acts, all of which he had purchased at their concerts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sarah finished the changes to Horace\u2019s computer and locked the screen. \u201cCome on, Bon, we\u2019ve got to sit down and keep it together.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI wonder who\u2019ll be the one he suspects when he unlocks it and it blasts that<\/em> out at full volume,\u201d Bonita said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLast year was a bust,\u201d Sarah said. \u201cAll that time to wrap his computer and keyboard in foil over the weekend, and then come in on Monday and everyone had new computers.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd a nasty email to you from the contractor about it.\u201d Bonita giggled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShush, he\u2019s coming in.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Horace walked into the office and sat his desk. A half-smile crossed his face. He logged on to his computer, and to Sarah and Bonita\u2019s disappointment it was silent. \u201cSarah, can you take a look at my computer? I think my sound isn\u2019t working.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSure, Boss.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Horace stood as Sarah walked over. \u201cI\u2019ll just log in from your computer to get through my email while you fix it.\u201d He winked on his way past.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sarah checked the connections, rebooted the machine, and finally reinstalled the sound drivers before she could get a test sound from the speakers. \u201cAll fixed, Boss.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPlease, Sarah,\u201d he said, leaving her desk, \u201ccall me Horace. We\u2019re all family here, right?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re right, Horace.\u201d Sarah smiled and returned to her desk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat happened?\u201d Bonita asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSound driver was corrupted.\u201d Sarah frowned as she logged back into her computer. \u201cWe\u2019ll get him one of these days. Maybe we can get\u2014\u201d she was interrupted by her speakers blasting at full volume. It was the clip she\u2019d tried to use on Horace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYES, DADDY! RAM ME! HARDER, DADDY! HARDER!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Everyone in the office was staring at her. Her face burned in embarrassment as she frantically tried to turn off the speakers, stop the clip, anything. Nothing worked until she finally unplugged the computer. Laughter spread through the open office until even Bonita was turning red trying not laugh out loud.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou too?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCome on, it was<\/em> funny!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you stop him? Or warn me, at least?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cStop him what? I watched him log on, answer a couple emails, and log off. If he did it, he\u2019s a computer ninja.\u201d Bonita looked around the office. \u201cI bet it was Rick and Tim.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sarah leaned over to whisper in conspiratorial tones. \u201cThat\u2019s okay, Mark said he was lining up something for Rick at break.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid he say what?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJust don\u2019t expect any donuts, he said.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When break time rolled around, Horace called out, \u201cTake a break. I\u2019ll watch the support lines, just save me an old-fashioned.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rick was the first in the break room. A shade over six feet tall and rail-thin he was well-known for his diet of junk food and sweets and aversion to anything resembling a vegetable. \u201cNice,\u201d he said, \u201cSilver Street donuts! Thanks, whoever brought\u2026.\u201d He stopped short on opening the box.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The box that promised to hold crullers, old-fashioneds, glazed and jelly donuts instead held a well-appointed vegetable tray. Rick\u2019s shoulders dropped as he looked at the broccoli, cauliflower, red and yellow peppers, cherry tomatoes, carrots, and two types of dip.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He turned to see Mark filming him on his phone. \u201cDamn it! You guys suck,\u201d he said. \u201cI guess I\u2019ll have to stop by Silver Street on my way home and buy my own.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cApril Fools!\u201d Mark sang.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWorks for me,\u201d Tim said, loading up a small paper plate with vegetables. \u201cMeans I won\u2019t break my diet today.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGoing for your summer beach body?\u201d Sarah asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMy fifth anniversary is in three months, and I want to fit back into my tux to surprise my husband.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh, you better send me pictures if you do,\u201d Bonita said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The conversations crossed; anniversary plans, the latest episode of the show everyone had been watching, that one customer that was a total pain in everyone\u2019s ass. Meanwhile, everyone except Rick was helping themselves to the veggie tray and picking it clean. Rick left the break room first to take over support.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Horace walked in and filled his coffee cup. On his way out, he stopped by the donut box and reached in. He turned to the others sat around the table with an old-fashioned donut in his hand. \u201cThanks for saving me one,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat the hell? Where did that come from?\u201d Mark asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid he sneak it in here?\u201d Bonita asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe had his coffee in one hand and his phone in the other when he walked in,\u201d Sarah said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Horace sat at his desk and enjoyed his donut, the look of bewilderment on Rick\u2019s face putting a smile on his own. Once he finished his donut, he got back to work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Shortly after lunch, a Nerf battle broke out in the office, soft foam darts flying everywhere. Horace sent a document to the printer at the far end of the office and rose to collect it. While he was never directly involved in the Nerf wars, he always maintained that he was a fair target. \u201cLet them play\u201d was his motto, or so he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tim lined up his patented, off-the-ceiling bounce shot whereby he could hit the printer no less than nine times out of ten. As Horace approached the printer, Tim let fly. The dart headed for the ceiling at a slightly higher velocity than usual, intersected a sudden gust from the air handlers, and ricocheted back to land in Tim\u2019s coffee, splashing a small amount of it on his desk. \u201cGah! Stupid AC!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Laughter echoed through the office as Horace took his document from the printer and walked slowly back to his desk. He stopped to check a message on his phone as a dart whizzed past just where he had been about to step. Done with the message he began moving again, another dart intersecting the space he\u2019d been only a half-second earlier. He made his way back to his desk unscathed by the myriad darts flying every which direction.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

During the afternoon break, Horace again manned the support lines while the others gathered in the break room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOkay, we\u2019ve got to get Horace at least once<\/em> for April Fool\u2019s Day,\u201d Rick said. \u201cI set something up with the cleaning crew last night. The storage closet is full of balloons. Like, way<\/em> full. When he opens the door, they\u2019ll come pouring out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow do we get him to open the door?\u201d Tim asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBon, head to the ladies\u2019 room, and when you come back tell him you heard a weird noise from the closet. Since he\u2019s the only one besides maintenance with the key, he\u2019ll have to check.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSounds weak, but I\u2019ll try it,\u201d Bonita said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Following the plan to the letter, Bonita went to the ladies\u2019 room, waited an appropriate amount of time, and returned to her desk. \u201cHorace, there\u2019s a weird noise coming from the closet. Since you\u2019re the only one with a key\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Horace raised an eyebrow. \u201cI wonder what it could be?\u201d He crossed the office to the closet, pulled the door open, and stepped inside. After a moment he stepped back out and closed the door. \u201cI didn\u2019t see anything,\u201d he said. \u201cJust so you know, the lock\u2019s been busted for a few weeks now, and I\u2019m not going to replace it. Seems silly to lock up cleaning supplies.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

All eyes were on Rick, accusing stares and glares, except for Bonita. She nodded. \u201cOkay, you got me, Rick,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Horace took his mug into the break room for another cup of coffee. \u201cBack in a flash.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As soon as he was out of sight, Rick bolted to the supply closet and flung open the door. An avalanche of balloons poured out, building a pile around him up to his knees. \u201cWhat the hell!?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Horace returned from the break room, looked at Rick and raised his mug. \u201cCheers! Who got you this time?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cUh, I\u2026 I did?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf you say so,\u201d he said, sitting down at his desk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The day ended as most did, with friendly chatter among the employees before they left. It was as though they were loath to leave each other\u2019s company.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHey Horace, are you going straight home?\u201d Sarah asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, I have a few things to finish up here, then I\u2019m going for all-you-can-eat at the Indian place on Third.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAll you can eat, huh?\u201d Rick asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYep. If you ever go, I suggest you start with the pakora.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPakora? Deep fried amazing,\u201d Horace said with a smile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rick seemed to ponder for a moment. \u201cYou know, that sounds good for some reason. Pa-kor-a\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sarah leaned close to Horace. \u201cShould we tell him that it\u2019s vegetables?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, let him find out after<\/em> he realizes how good they are,\u201d Horace answered with a wink.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After all his employees had left for the day, Horace leaned back in his chair, holding the hand-carved raccoon. \u201cAnother good year,\u201d he said. His body began to glow and he channeled the energy into the carving, transferring the glow to it. He set it back on his desk and the glow faded, but he could feel the warm thrum of its energy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The phone rang and he answered, \u201cGrimwald.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s me, Azeban.\u201d Glooscap sounded weaker than he had in the past.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGlooscap, how are you cousin?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m well, how about you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t sound so hot,\u201d Horace said, \u201cbut I\u2019m better than ever.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you getting enough worship?\u201d Glooscap asked. \u201cIf you don\u2019t get enough worship, if your stories aren\u2019t told enough, you\u2019ll fade away, like so many of our brothers and sisters.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll let you other gods have your stuffy rituals and stories,\u201d he said. \u201cAs long as the humans play, I\u2019m fed, especially on this day. You say let them pray, I say let them play.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

prompt: Write about a mischievous pixie or trickster god. available at Reedsy Horace A. Grimwald was, to any casual observer, a serious little man of indeterminate age with comically thick glasses and salt-and-pepper hair. Closer …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[208],"tags":[210,209,220],"class_list":["post-2227","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-trunk-stories","tag-fiction","tag-short-story","tag-urban-fantasy"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pxT7i-zV","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2227","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2227"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2227\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2228,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2227\/revisions\/2228"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2227"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2227"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2227"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}