Sarah Wexler sat in the driver's seat of her matte red 2006 Chevy Malibu, hazel eyes fixed on the purse leaning against the passenger's seat, still… silent… unmoving. She’d almost expected something to come crawling out of it, like a hand reaching up to grab her by the throat.
It was silly, ridiculous, ludacris. Donnie wasn’t going to leap out like some alien face hugger. He was small, vulnerable and terrified, curled up in a ball wondering what had happened.
Maybe.
Probably.
Sarah sighed, sinking into the ‘premium cloth seats’ of her rusting old car, hands rubbing tired eyes as she exhaled deeply. “Okay…one step at a time…pick up the purse…take it inside.”
Her words felt louder than she’d intended in the quiet of her car. Ambient neon lighting from the underground parking garage’s compact fluorescents gave hazer late evening vibes.
In the quiet, Sarah looked to her purse once more, a simple tan brown leather purse with a short strap. Maybe if she listened real closely, if she stopped breathing to remove all white noise, then maybe she would be able to hear if Donnie had woken up.
Nothing.
“Maybe he crawled out?” Sarah thought out loud, the idea turning razor blades in her gut. She brought a thin hand toward her belly and held it there, sinking further down in her seat.
He could have crawled out while she was chatting with Lila. Made his way to a police officer or a passerby. They could be on their way to arrest her now.
Or maybe he’d fallen prey to a racoon, seagull, or stray cat? Sarah’s eyes shot open, wide as saucers. Donnie could be dead, in pieces, or digesting in the belly of some park vermin.
She quickly reached for her purse, anxiety was a terrible mistress. Until she looked, saw him with her own eyes and confirmed he was there, alive and well, Donnie was both alive and dead, here and not here, and even though logic dictated there was likely no chance he would have been able to escape, she had to know.
Carefully Sarah brought the cute little purse onto her lap, unzipped the main compartment she had stowed Donnie, separate from where she’d placed the remote, and peaked into the darkness.
Donnie, of course, was right where she had left him, laying on his stomach on the small bed of crumpled up tissues. The tiny darling looked absolutely adorable, nestled into his makeshift bed like some sort of hamster. Her heart fluttered and she covered her mouth with her hand.
“Oh babe, I’m so sorry.” She whispered, not wanting to wake him just yet. She wasn’t quite ready to deal with him. And what a deal it would be, as Donnie was very likely to be quite livid when he woke up.
Once finished fawning over her miniature little ex, Sarah carefully zipped the compartment back up, pulled her key’s from the ignition, and stepped out of the Car, footsteps echoing off the concrete parking garage floor.
‘He’ll be so mad.’ She mused, clutching the strap of her purse as she made for the stairs. ‘I mean, you did just shrink him, stuff him in a purse and take him home. That’s not normal Sarah…people don’t just do that to other people.’ Her own thoughts plagued her, causing her to walk faster, eyes focused on the ground, watching her own feet as she hurried with quick, short steps.
Donnie had a temper, not a dangerous one, but he had a temper. Their relationship hadn’t been perfect, but he’d never given her any reason to be afraid, even at his worst. That was what she loved most about him, even when angry, he was the same man he always was. There was no Jeckle and Hyde with him.
She felt a pain in her chest, shaking her head quickly to force away the memories. Thinking about the past hurt, so she tried her best not to.
The lobby was empty, save for Mr. Jenkins from the 3rd floor, sitting on one of the two recliners, next to the fake decorative olive tree by the front parlor. He was reading the newspaper, something Sarah had only seen people over the age of 50 really ever do. She smiled, waving politely as he looked up, nodded, then adjusted his glasses and fanned out the paper, likely to straighten the floppy pages.
“Package came today for Kendra.” He said, matter of fact.
Sarah stopped, clutched the strap of her purse and offered Mr. Jenkins a crooked half smile, “Oh…I can grab it for her?” Sarah hesitated, then half turned in the direction of the mail room.
The old man cleared his throat with a grumbly rumble, and lowered the top right corner of the page to reveal a downcast expression as he looked through the bottom of his eyeglasses. “She was just down to get it.”
Sarah blinked several times, then looked back, Mr Jenkins wore an off brown and white dress shirt with all but the two two buttons done up, dark brown slacks, and a pair of loafers. Sarah affectionately referred to this as “The Grandpa” ensemble, as it reminded her of how her grandfather used to dress. “Oh… well, no need I suppose?” She offered back a cute smile, her eyes closing and nose wrinkled.
Why was he telling her this? To make conversation? Was he angry, upset? Happy? She stood, frozen in place, awkward expression and all for far too long, before she heard the rustling of paper to signal this conversation was likely over.
“S… see you later Walter, say hello to Harriet for me?” Sarah waved goodbye with the same hand holding onto the strap of her purse, and made for the elevator.
“Sarah.” The familiar voice of Mr. Jenkins stopped Sarah in her tracks. Her hand once more grasped the strap of her purse as she pulled it near. Heart beat spiked as she turned, forcing another smile.
Did he know?
Impossible, there was no way.
“Hmm?” Calm on the outside, terrified on the inside.
It was irrational, silly and impossible. Nonetheless Sarah was absolutely convinced the next words out of this man’s mouth would directly relate to the nonexistent screaming coming from her purse.
“Tell Kendra Harriet is finished with her pants, okay?” Walter coughed, not bothering to lower his paper this time.
“Oh…er, got it!” Sarah exhaled, her shoulders dropping just a bit as she quickly moved toward the elevator, pressing the button with a little more force than necessary.
***
Kendra sat surrounded in the large, orange, corduroy beanbag chair, tongue poking out of her mouth as she concentrated on her game of Tetris 99 on the small, pink Switch lite. She’d managed to miss Sarah’s entrance, owing to the earbuds shoved into both ears. Keen eyes however caught sight of movement as her roommate tried to scurry by, prompting the tall, honeyed-brown skinned woman to drop the console on the chair and spring to her feet.
“Sarabelle!”
Sarah froze, only a few feet from her room, so close, yet so far. “Oh, hey Kendra.”
Kendra was all about nicknames and pet names. In the short time they lived together, Sarah had earned the names, Sare-Bear, Sar-rific, Sar-sie, Sizzle, and finally Sarabelle. The last one stuck on account of how ‘small and demure’ she was, and how she reminded Kendra of a sweet southern bell.
For…some reason.
Kendra tried to suggest a few, doing her best to make "Kiki" and "K-Star" catch on, but Sarah stuck with "Kendra."
“Why the rush? You’ve been gone all day! Come spend some time with me?” Kendra’s pace soon had her beside Sarah, her long bare arm casually resting against the wall, blocking her way. Though likely unintentional, it felt to Sarah like the velvet rope at a museum.
“I’m kind of tired, I think I’m just going to go lay down?” Sarah smiled, lips pressed tightly together, hand wrapped in a death grip on the strap of her purse. She was nearly homefree, all she had to do was make it past one nosey, well meaning roommate and she could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
One long, honest, deep conversation was all she wanted, one chance to explain to Donnie how sorry she was, to plead her case. So close she could taste it, if not for the final irritating roadblock.
***
Donnie’s eyes fluttered open, straining to adjust to the darkness that consumed him. He could hear the suggestion of noise but it was loud and unspecific and seemed to come from all around. He tried to wait, figuring his eyes needed time to adjust, but only managed to see vague shapes and outlines in the near lightless void.
A pillar stretched high into the sky up and to the right, the ground beneath him was soft, like bedsheets, but tapered off when he stretched out an arm to feel, beyond was a drop it seemed, how far that went, his mind could only wonder.
“The fuck am I.” Donnie spoke, voice raspy, forced up and over a dry parched tongue, through chapped lips. “Why am I so thirsty?” He muttered next, his voice lost among the dark cave.
“... well… said….s..e…was fi..sh…wi….y… pants?” A voice, muddled and indistinct could be heard, muted by wherever he was. It was both loud and deep, and soft and muffled at the same time.
Donnie tried to stand, losing his balance on the soft ground beneath him and tumbled forward into the inky darkness. “Gah, shit….” he cursed, landing on something hard and smooth. “Oww…urg, that hurt.” Donnie groaned, pushing himself up with his arms. “Is this…glass?” He felt the surface that broke his fall, struggling to see through the veil of shadows.
Another loud, muffled voice broke his interest in whatever he was kneeling on. This time it was loud and sharp, like laughter.
“Hello? Is anybody there?” Donne called out, sitting back on his haunches, rubbing the spot his forehead made contact with the glass floor. The ‘voice’ from above continued on, paying him no heed, as another, softer but closer voice responded in muffled, garbled words.
“The hell happened to me….” He rubbed what would soon be a goose egg on his forehead, looking around as images slowly started to take shape better.
Next to the long pillar a strange outline cut through the shadows, wide at the top, thin and rounded half way down, a jagged, elongated form with faint ridges a quarter way along its length. The teeth like ridges appeared narrow and uniform with large rounded tops. Curves softened in the dim light, giving it an eerie presence that seems almost out of proportion to the space around it.
“Can anybody hear me?” Donnie called out to the voices once more, waiting, straining to discern what they were saying, it was as if someone was having a conversation from a few rooms away, only much louder, though that didn’t help him understand any more clearly.
Suddenly, a bright light shone up through the glass floor, accompanied by an ear-shattering tune that synced with the rhythmic vibrations of the floor beneath him.
“Oh, God, that’s loud!” The frightened man clawed at his ears, closed his eyes, and shook his head, doing anything he could to block out the terrible music.
Then the sky seemed to open, revealing an even brighter light that fully illuminated the room. His eyes squinted to compensate for the blinding brightness, and everything became clear.
The glass floor was a massive, rectangular smartphone; the long, smooth pillar was a tampon leaning against the wall, and the strange, toothed statue was a hairbrush.
But none of that was nearly as terrifying or attention-grabbing as what loomed above him.
Sarah; absolutely enormous, beyond comprehension, her face blocking out the sun and stars, stretching across the entire horizon, looked down at Donnie. Her expression twisted into an awkward, nervous grimace of guilt. She half-smiled before reaching down from the heavens. Her hand, fingers thicker and taller than he was, grasped the phone he was kneeling on and gently tilted it, sending him sliding back into the soft pile of tissues, what he had thought were his “bed sheets.”
“S… Sarah?” His voice cracked, his eyes wide with terror.
She quickly glanced up, scanning something, or someone, in the room with her, then looked back down, offering him a nervous smile and a finger to her lips in a silent shush. Then, she was gone, and darkness returned as she closed her purse.
“What the fuck?” Stunned, Donnie shook his head. His night vision was ruined by the sudden light, and he struggled to comprehend what he had just seen.
He was in the park, finishing his lunch.
Sarah had tried to talk to him, so he left.
And then, he woke up here?
But why was she so big? And why did everything around him look like props from a monster movie? None of this made sense.
“What the actual, donkey balls-FUCK!?”