Shelf-Made Man

Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

T obias had been taunted with a lot worse than troll before, so the name-calling didn’t bother him. The bleeding, previously raving man who was now out cold on his living room floor was an issue, however. After staring at him for a few more moments, Tobias worked up enough bravery to roll him onto his back and get a closer look.

It was hard to tell for sure, but Tobias thought that the bleeding was slowing down. He didn’t see any other obvious wounds.

The man didn’t have a phone or wallet or any ID on him, so there was no way to tell who he was or where he’d come from. The most reasonable conclusion—considering the elf outfit and pointy ears—was that he’d been attending a Christmas costume party, had ingested a mind-altering substance, and had somehow made his way into Tobias’s house, wounding himself in the process .

Since the poor guy was having a bad enough day already, Tobias was hesitant to get authorities involved. He sighed, carefully gathered the man into his arms, and carried him to the bedroom, where he laid him on the bed. Then Tobias fetched the first aid kit he kept in the bathroom. It was a much larger and better-equipped kit than he’d ever thought he’d need, but Aunt Virginia used to remind him in her letters that one never knew when an emergency might arise, and even the boldest adventurer ought to be equipped for such eventualities. So far, he’d never used it for much except a skinned knee (slipped while jogging), a scorched hand (absently grabbed a hot pan handle), and a nasty splinter (foolishly attempted to repair his back deck).

Next he gathered several clean towels, a plastic basin of warm water, and a bottle of unscented antibiotic soap. He arranged everything neatly on the dresser and nightstand, opened the first aid kit, and… hesitated. Maybe he should call 911 after all.

But then the man’s eyes fluttered open. He startled, moaned in pain, and went limp, his expression showing defeat.

“I’m, uh, going to take a look at your leg, okay? I’ve got bandages and stuff. Oh, and my name’s Tobias, by the way. What’s yours?”

The man’s jaw worked. “Your master knows who I am, troll.”

“I think you have me mixed up with someone else. I’ve never been into the whole BDSM scene. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not judging people who enjoy it, but I don’t—” He snapped his mouth shut to stop himself from babbling. Then he cleared his throat. “I don’t know your name. Could you share?”

After a brief pause, the man lifted his chin. “I am Alfred Clausen, second son of Claus Clausen, and snorkel and the whole lot of you can go to Hel.”

Tobias decided to concentrate on the part of this that made sense. “Nice to meet you, Alfred. Can I, uh, take a look at your leg? I’m not a doctor or a nurse or anything, by the way, but I did earn a merit badge in first aid.”

Alfred turned his head and glared at the wall. “Do what you will.”

Deciding that was the closest he was going to get to permission, Tobias grabbed a small pair of scissors from the kit. This made Alfred flinch, but he relaxed a little as Tobias very gingerly cut the stocking away from the wound. Tobias was proud of himself for not fainting or barfing, even when he saw that there was a long, ugly gash across Alfred’s thigh. It looked as though someone had tried to saw off his leg with a bread knife, but at least the bleeding had stopped.

“You should go to the emergency room.”

Alfred didn’t respond.

Fine. Since he didn’t appear at risk of exsanguinating, Tobias would patch him up and send him on his way. “Is there someone I can call? Someone who can come and get you? ”

Alfred replied in a whisper. “Must you taunt me? Your cruelty knows no bounds.”

“I’m not taunting. Seriously, just give me a phone number.”

“Is snorkel hiding somewhere, laughing? He can at least show his cursed face.”

So Snorkel was someone’s name? “There’s nobody here but me.”

Alfred went silent again, so Tobias shrugged and started working on his leg. He dabbed away the dried blood with a damp towel, gently cleaned the skin with the soap, applied some antibiotic ointment to the general area, and wrapped the entire thigh in bandages. Alfred whimpered once or twice but otherwise didn’t react.

The wound itself tended to, as well as Tobias was able, he considered what to do next. “Um, is it okay if I get rid of the rest of your costume? It’s kind of a mess.” Both the stockings and the tunic were coated in drying blood. “I’ll find you something clean to wear instead.”

No answer. After another shrug and more help from the scissors, Tobias managed to peel away what was left of the stockings. Alfred wasn’t wearing any underwear, but it struck Tobias as even stranger that he hadn’t been wearing shoes. And yet the feet of the stockings weren’t dirty, so Alfred couldn’t have been walking around outside like that. Another mystery.

The little scissors from the first aid kit failed the challenge of cutting the tunic fabric, so Tobias fetched a bigger pair from the kitchen junk drawer. Again, Alfred didn’t react when Tobias removed the remainder of his clothing.

Tobias reacted, however, with a shudder, because Alfred’s torso was covered in vivid mottled bruises. “I don’t see any more open wounds, but you could have internal injuries.”

“I’m sure you’d enjoy that.”

“Why would you think that? I’m helping you, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Alfred turned his head to look at Tobias through narrowed eyes. He was clearly trying to look fierce, although that was pretty ineffective considering he was naked, injured, and splayed on Tobias’s galaxy-print duvet. “Why is a troll playing healer? What devilry are you plotting now?”

“I wish you’d stop calling me a troll. I told you—my name is Tobias.”

“Why do you deny your nature? Do you think you are fooling me somehow? I know that you are a troll and that you will soon deliver me to Snorkel, and then all will be lost.”

Maybe Alfred had suffered a head injury. Tobias tried to be patient in his response. “I don’t know anyone named Snorkel. But those bruises look pretty bad. And….” He stopped and stared at Alfred’s chest, because in addition to the reddish-purple splotches, there were also several tattoos of intricate abstract designs. And the tattoos were moving : spinning, undulating, and swaying, while also glittering as if they contained miniature disco lights .

“Um,” said Tobias.

Not even glancing down to see the spectacle on his own body, Alfred continued to glare.

Tobias blinked, but nothing changed. “Um… what are those?” Living in Portland, he saw a lot of artistic tattoos, but never anything like this.

“Don’t pretend more stupidity than you already possess,” Alfred snarled. “Even a troll is capable of recognizing clan marks.”

“Hey!” Tobias didn’t offend easily, but he’d had just about enough of Alfred’s gibes. He knew he should give the guy a pass due to his unsettled state of mind, except Alfred’s gaze seemed clear and entirely lucid.

They stared at each other for a while, unease growing in Tobias’s gut. Something here wasn’t… right—aside from finding a rude, injured stranger in his living room. The weird tattoos. The costume. The delicately beautiful face, which seemed somehow familiar. The pointed ears—that flushed to their tips when Alfred was angry.

Tobias really was feeling like a dumb troll now. He just didn’t understand.

Alfred must have been processing some thoughts as well, because he blinked a few times, surveyed the room, and looked back at Tobias with wide eyes. “You’re not a troll.”

“Thanks?”

“Are you… human ?” He said this as if it were the most unlikely thing in the world .

Well, the second most. The very most unlikely thing in the world was that Alfred was an elf.

Tobias gave a distressed moan and rushed into the living room. The blood had dried on the floor; the windows and doors remained securely locked. And the doll that Aunt Virginia had given him was gone.

He made a frenzied search of the living room, finding the shoebox that now contained just the fabric and note. There was nothing under the couch cushions or under the couch itself. Nothing hidden in a corner. Certainly not behind the bookshelf, which had been firmly attached to the wall since the bungalow was built in 1927.

No. No. Absolutely not . It was impossible.

When Tobias shuffled hesitantly back into the bedroom, Alfred hadn’t moved, but he looked as shell-shocked as Tobias felt.

“What’s going on?” Tobias didn’t like how wavery his own voice sounded.

“I’ve no idea. Please, tell me….” Alfred swallowed and didn’t seem able to continue. He had an expressive face and would probably make a terrible poker player.

Tobias decided to ask one of the most bizarre questions of his life. “Are you, um, human?”

“Of course not.”

Okay. Right. Of course. “Then what are you?”

“I am an elf,” was the whispered reply.

There was an upholstered chair in the corner of the bedroom. As usual, it was piled with clean clothes that Tobias hadn’t yet managed to fold and put away. He swept them unceremoniously to the floor and collapsed heavily onto the cushions. “I see two possibilities here. One is that you are mentally ill and/or on drugs, and after getting hurt you somehow got into my house—while wearing an elf costume and without shoes—without actually breaking in, and there’s a fancy new style of tattoos I’ve never seen before, and you have pointy ears due to a genetic quirk or body modification surgery.”

“That’s not?—”

“But I was taught that Occam’s Razor is generally a good guide.”

Alfred shook his head. “I do not know him.”

“It’s a heuristic, not a person. It says that when there are competing hypotheses, the simplest one is usually more accurate.”

“I see.” Alfred furrowed his brow. “And what are your competing hypotheses now?”

“I already told you one. It’s pretty complex. The other possibility is that the elf doll Aunt Virginia gave me has somehow come alive.”

That didn’t sound any more plausible out loud than it did in his head, but then, the complex possibility made no sense at all.

“Doll?” whispered Alfred.

Might as well spit it out. “My aunt gave me an elf doll. I think it used to belong to her wizard husband. I put it on my shelf yesterday, and now here you are, and it’s gone, and you look exactly like it did, including even a hurt leg, and Jesus this is insane but I honestly think it’s true and I’ve never heard of anything like this and I don’t know what to do!”

That was more like barfing than spitting it out, and Tobias had to pause to catch his breath.

Alfred, meanwhile, had gone incredibly pale. He worked his mouth as if he were trying to say something but couldn’t find the words, then let out a gasping sort of sigh.

“I’ve been transferred,” he said.

And fainted dead away.