To The Hilts

“My room?” Tinkletoes asks.

“Everyone has a space.”

“Let’s take a look.” He says as he crosses to the metal door and opens it. Inside is a standard military issue cot and a standing locker with a pair of full length doors. Maps and diagrams of some of Tinkletoes’ light saber designs line the walls. There is a clock running in military time and a shadow box displaying the history of hand grenades with bullets lining the outside edge. The self-proclaimed mercenary takes a few steps, stops in front of the locker and opens the door. Half of it stores back up t-shirts and sets of camos. The other side holds light saber parts, tools, and weapons storage.

“Well...what do you think?” House asks.

“Everything looks orderly. Plenty of supplies. I like the grenade bin. Nice work.”

“Of course.” House says. “Lay down on the cot.”

“Where are my hilts?”

“Safe. Lay down on the cot.”

“I came here for my hilts.” Tinkletoes counters.

“You’ll get them. Lay down first.”

A growl emanates from Tinkletoes’ throat.

“Who wants another pancake?” Writer Lady calls.

Dylan runs to her side, empty plate held out in anticipation of more food.

“I don’t know Dylan. You’ve already had three and these are almost the size of the plate.” Writer Lady says.

Dylan looks up at her with big eyes. “I’m still hungry.”

“Rough night huh?”

“I was up all night slaying ninja-zombies with Dobby in the Midlands.”

“The Midlands?”

“The lands between Earth and Faerie. They had already invaded Earth and Faerie was next.”

Writer Lady looks at Dobby. The ginger tabby looks up at her from his dish and shakes his head.

“Where was I?” She asks.

“Dead.” The tow-headed boy answers. “The grown-ups all bought it ages before I got there.” Dylan holds his plate closer to the skillet. “Can I have the pancake now?”

Writer Lady lifts the freshly fried cake on to his plate. “A big pancake for a big story. It’s a trade.”

“Thanks Writer Lady.”

Dylan accepts his prize with a grin and runs back to his seat. Writer Lady hears Ray comment from the other room.

“Whoa. That's your fourth pancake. A lot of food for such a little dude. Remember this is a no hurl zone. No tossing those things back up man.”

“Well?” House asks, waiting for a response

Tinkletoes closes his eyes for a moment. “It doesn’t feel like a cot.”

“It doesn’t. It has been enchanted to feel like a medium firm pillow top mattress with a feather bed topper. It also has 850 thread count sheets and a silk duvet.”

“That’s why I feel like I’m going to slide off.”

“Roll over.” House instructs.

“What?”

“Roll over.”

Tinkletoes looks at the edge of the cot. “How about if I just sit up.”

“You’re not going to roll off if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Tinkletoes does a slow roll, he settles himself on the left side of the mattress which is invisible to the naked eye. “I should be on the floor.” He says.

“You aren’t.” House squeals with delight. “I created a luxurious king size bed that looks like a military cot.”

Tinkletoes sits up. The self-proclaimed mercenary steps away from the cot and studies it. He gets down on his hands and knees to study underneath. “Excellent work. Now...where are my hilts?”

“All this and you're still carrying on about the hilts?” House releases a sigh. “Okay, fine. Look in the trunk at the foot of the cot.”

Within seconds Tinkletoes is at the trunk and lifting the lid. He looks inside and tucked at the bottom front are his hilts, they have been extracted from his gear bag and are tucked into their own individual holders. “Finally.”

“I told you they were safe.” House says.

“You did.”

A voice echoes through the room. “Changes will commence in five, four, three, two, one...”

The self-proclaimed mercenary reaches into the trunk to collect his treasures before he finds himself in another room entirely. He pulls his hand out of the trunk seconds before it and the rest of his room disappears around him. When everything around him stops moving he opens his hand. It’s empty. “$%^&!”

“You said a bad word.” Dylan says as he passes Tinkletoes with an empty plate in hand. Dylan returns within seconds.

“You’d say bad words too if you’d had the morning that I’m having.” Tinkletoes countered.

The four year old shakes his head. “You said a bad word. You have to go stand in the time out corner.”

Tinkletoes looks at Dylan. “I’m on a mission I don’t have time to stand in some stupid corner.”

“But you said a bad word.”

“That rule only applies to kids, I’m an adult. There’s no help for me at this point.”

Dylan points to the appropriate corner. “Time out.”

“How about this, you go stand in the corner for me, I’ll give you five dollars, and I’ll never say the word ever again.”

“That’s bribery.” Dylan says.

“How do you know?”

“Paige is my big sister, she knows everything.”

“I need to get my hilts. I’ll stand in the corner later. Okay?”

“Bribery and trying to get out of a time out means no story time.”

Tinkletoes raises an eyebrow and tries to hold back his grin. “No story time huh? I have been a bad boy.” The self-proclaimed mercenary attempts to look remorseful. “I really don’t deserve story time. I’ll have to live with it.”

“But you still have to stand in the corner.”

A crowd has gathered around them. Tinkletoes looks at Writer Lady. “I don’t have to stand in the corner do I?”

“Tinkletoes has had a rough day.” Writer Lady says.

“He should stand in the corner.” House’s comment echoes throughout the room. “I know that it would make my day.”

“What is it that you always say?” Carp asks. “A good soldier is a good example for everyone around him.”

“Yeah Dude.” Ray agrees. “Be an example. He looks up to you.”

“Fine.” Tinkletoes says as he walks to the appropriate corner. “I’ll stand in the corner. Nobody’s allowed to watch.”

The group makes haste leaving the area.

Dylan stays long enough to hug Tinkletoes’ arm and whisper a quick, “Thank you,” before running from the room.

The self-proclaimed mercenary stares at the corner without uttering a single word.

“You didn’t have to do that.” House whispers.

“It’s for the kid.”

“Not that. You didn’t have to get so angry. Your quarters are enchanted to move on a regular basis for security purposes. Mural Man and I thought that you would like it.”

Tinkletoes’ watch beeps and numbers flash on the display. “What’s this?”

“What does it look like?”

“These are the coordinates of my room and the time...”

“The time it will disappear from those coordinates.” House says. “Or...”

“Or?”

“Mural Man also suggested another enchantment. One in which you could access anything in your quarters by using similar means to all those space movies that you like.”

“Space movies? Sci-fi?”

“I think that’s what Mural Man called it. I wasn’t paying that much attention. He was talking about you.”

“Of course.” Tinkletoes thinks for a moment. He holds out one hand behind him and waits for one of the hilts to make it’s way into his grasp. His hand closes on the hilt and he pulls it to him looking at it joyfully. Hiding his smile quickly, he says. “His way is much easier."

Writer Lady stops in the entry. "Time out is over."

Tinkletoes looks at the ceiling. "Give my regards to Mural Man.”

 The self-proclaimed mercenary makes his way into the kitchen to find some pancakes.

*This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.