A Cup of Tea

As the bitter snow fills my nostrils and into my bloodstream, I feel myself lost and in wonder in the whirls of swirls. I stumble across the frozen land to find myself upon a wooden cabin. I knock. There is no answer. My voice cracks
“Hello?”
The door seems to be off its hinges and I peer in. The door squeaks as I cautiously open it. No one. Piles upon piles of dirty rags were thrown about without care. Unmade beds filled this tiny room. A dim light in the corner faintly fills the dark cabin, only to create frightful shadows from the objects in the room. Stains of dirt and grime blanket the windows and only glimpses of natural light were able to seep through. Then faint voices from the distance were penetrating the walls. I opened the door and men are walking down a steep hill, but they aren’t your regular men. They seem short in stature and older in age with long white beards. They walk with carts full of what looked like diamonds but seemed more of a deeper white. They trotted their way down to the wooded cabin. I don’t know what to do and I feel frozen in place as if the floorboards are holding my ankles. As they approach me, they don’t seem to notice or care. They seem to be in a world of their own. The one in front of the pack comes to me and questions me of why I am in their humble abode. I tell him I don’t know how I got here and need a place to stay. Surprisingly, they accept me.
I hear one of them say to another, “She is one of us.”
I don’t know what they mean, but I don’t question them because I am a guest. The one who first talked to me gave me some tea and told me to relax. It seems quiet as they all stare at me as I sip my tea. No noise. No birds singing, no rustling of the leaves. Then the one who gave me tea turned some music on to break the silence. They all stand up to dance but one. He lays there with a coy look on his face and when I asked him why he doesn’t dance, he doesn’t even look at me, or speak.
The one who gave me the tea proclaims, “He doesn’t talk to anyone but us, he is very sheepish. Stay away unless you want to be ignored,” and asked me to dance.
I left the timid man in the corner by himself. The movement of my feet gets my blood pumping and that heats my body from the frigid air due to lack of insulation in the cabin. One of them catches my eye and seems very agitated. Every time someone bumps into him, he raves and starts a rant on how they always badger him. He has vexing eyes and his frown seems to drop to his chest.
The one who gave me tea said, “He is always in a bad mood, nothing you say or do will make him joyful. I suggest you stay clear of him.”
As everyone looks to have lost their energy, they stop the music and we sit in silence, again. The world seems to stop and stare at us. One of the men has a big grin that lays from cheek to cheek. I wonder if that aggravates his face or if it is natural. His teeth shine and his eyes glistened with enjoyment. He starts telling jokes to lighten the mood. Some are entertaining and some not but after every one he tells, he laughs like a hyena. He jumps up and down at every comment that is made about his jokes like a little kid getting ice cream. He seems to enjoy every second and feels stupendous to be alive. Maybe just a little too much.
The one who gave me tea told me, “He can drive you crazy sometimes with all this excitement. He never seems to want to slow down. So try to keep your distance from his unless you want to go mad.”
As the sky darkens and hues of orange and off pink splash the navy blue sky, the mood changes in the tiny house. The one who gave me tea asks everyone if they have seen one of their members. Apparently he disappeared and it isn’t the first time. They call out his name numerous times and they soon find him wandering outside following a pristine butterfly. They drag him back in. He had a dazed look on his face as his eyes focus and unfocus. He is very distant as well. He seems very distracted all the time and only says one word at a time. I think that he has a limited vocabulary. I ask the one who gave me tea if he was alright.
He just says, “He is a little slow and his thoughts get distract him very easily. He is usually harmless but just in case, try to not communicate with him, I don’t want you to get harmed.”
I start to get claustrophobic in the tightly packed home. So the one who gave me tea shoves the rusted window open to let some of the frigid, winter breeze in. Soon one of the men starts to sneeze uncontrollably. He seems like he is in great pain. Everytime time he sneezes, it looks like he can’t breathe. His face gets bloodshot and his eyes bulge. Maybe he is allergic to something in the air and I ask to fasten the window. None of them seem to notice the pain this pitiful man is in.
Then finally the one who gave me tea explains, “This happens often and he’ll be fine in about a minute.”
“Is he allergic to something?” I ask.
But the man who gave me tea says, “It’s normal. We don’t know why he is like that but he is and nothing we have tried on him to stop the sneezing works. So keep about a ten feet distance from him unless you want to be covered in his germs”.
As the night draws to an end, we hear a boisterous intonation from one of the dark corners of the room. It startles us and the man who gave me tea gets up to see what it was. He comes back with another man sound asleep in his arms. He lays him on the bed and I realize he is in a deep sleep. Apparently, he was sleeping in the corner and slumped over and hit the floor. He has a big bruise on his forehead from the impact.
The man who gave me tea explains, “He often will pass out while awake like that.”
It is getting late so we decided to try to sleep but it is hard with the obnoxious snoring of the passed out man.
The man who gave me tea said “If you want sleep, you should sleep on the other end of the room away from him so his snoring won’t awaken you”
So I move and lay my blanket down on the wobbly floorboards. My mind wanders off into the unknown of extraordinary thoughts. Then, all of sudden, I hear a screeching sound from outside the wood barrier. I cover my ears in agony. I look around to see the men still sound asleep. Why aren’t they waking up to this unbearable noise. A blinding white flash streaks across the sky and then everything goes black. Screams of my name fill the atmosphere. Fire is crackling in the background. Blurs of blue and red flashes whip by.
I awake in the hospital. The glistening white of the room and bright lights stings my eyes and I close them tightly. I want to get up, but I can’t. My brain commands my body to move but it won’t respond. In fact, not only can I not move it, I can’t feel it at all. I pop my eyes open to see what this madness is. In shock, my jaw drops. My whole body is in a cast and I my arms and legs hang in slings like a puppet. A sharp pain slices through my head, and I close my eyes.
I hear the familiar voices of my friends come in with, and the soothing sound of my mother’s voice. My friends are telling her that we went to a party, that I was very unwilling to dance, that I got irritated with people while dancing.
“As the night continued,” one explains “she became very ecstatic and was bouncing off the walls.
“Then the next moment, she was lost in thought and had a vacant stare in her eyes.” said another. “She started to sneeze frantically, and got the bright idea to drive home.”
According to the doctor, I passed out while behind the wheel and struck an oncoming car and the impact broke almost every bone in my body.
“She kept speaking of petite bearded men at the party, but no one else saw them.” my friends continue.
I can hear the weeping of my woeful mother beside me as well as my dearest friends. I open my eyes slowly to see a blur of faces above me. My mom screams with joy as she hugs me and says that her baby girl is alive. My friends come by my side to comfort me. I hear the doctor request everyone leave to allow me to rest. Everyone’s voice fades into the distance.
A tall, pale lady with long grey hair and a dark robe comes in and exclaims to me in a cracked voice, “You are very lucky to be alive my precious”. Then she leans down and whispers to me,”You overdosed on cocaine my pretty, and it potentially could have killed you.” She looks at me and smiles with her yellow rotten teeth. She sets down a red, juicy apple next to me and said “Eat up, it will help you recover.”