A Guest

Oliver Stone clutched the base of a robust green weed, pulling with all his might, his determination palpable.

“Weeds shouldn’t be this formidable!” he growled, his voice bouncing with each pull. The weed finally gave in, snapping the roots with a satisfying crack. He threw the weed into a mound of others. 

His brother, Arthur, entered the outside.

“Thank you for helping me with this. I don’t know how long I’d be here if I did it alone.”

“Anything for my big bro. Just, do you know where the leather gloves are?” Arthur asked.

“Under the sink cabinet,” Oliver informed.

“Thank you. Be right back!” Arthur conceded, disappearing into the house to gear up for the gardening. Oliver seized another weed and pulled. His grip slipped, tearing off the leaves and sending him sprawling. He grimaced at the weed, his fury uncontainable. Arthur returned, now wearing black leather gloves for protection.

“I could use some help with this…” Oliver trailed off, thinking of a good insult. “Wannabe flower.” Oliver knew it wasn’t good, but Arthur chuckled and punched his brother’s shoulder.

“Course I will!” Arthur replied brightly. The two brothers gripped the base of the weed.

“Okay, on three…” Oliver informed, “One, two, three!” They both pulled, the weed detaching from the ground. Dirt and loose pebbles flung into the air, landing on Arthur and Oliver. They both chucked the weed into the heap of greenery.

***

Oliver sighed as he slipped off his green-stained gloves. He dropped them into his washer, and his brother did the same.

“Thanks for helping me out. That took much less time than if I’d done it alone,” Oliver said, turning to his brother.

“No problem, anything for my older bro,” Arthur replied.

“Then maybe you’ll help me wash the walls of the house?” Oliver asked teasingly.

“Maybe not ‘anything,’ anything,” Arthur replied jestingly. Oliver chuckled.

“Well, I’ll be heading home now. Call me if anything big comes up,” Arthur said as he left for the front door.

“I will,” Oliver replied, waving his hand. Arthur mirrored the action and shut the door. Feeling the weight of the day, Oliver sank into his cushioned chair. His body ached with exhaustion, and he struggled to keep his eyes open. The last thing he heard was the sound of Arthur's car starting before sleep overtook him.

***

Oliver awoke at sunset to the sound of someone pounding on the door. He jumped from his chair and rushed towards it. What he saw through the window was a… policeman.

Oliver opened the door, and to his surprise, not just one cop but a whole team was there.

“Good evening, gentleman,” Oliver greeted, dumbfounded. “S-sorry I didn’t answer sooner; I had dozed off; sorry if I kept you waiting.”

“Nah, we weren’t here for too long,” one of the cops said, flicking his hand in a ‘don’t worry’ manner.

“Am I… under arrest?” Oliver asked.

“No, no, don’t be silly,” the cop said.

“Okay?” there was silence for a moment.

“Is nobody going to say it?” the cop asked.

“The Mayor’s moving in,” said the serious one.

“The… the Mayor’s moving in…? As in… the Mayor?”

“Yeah, who else would we be talkin’ about?”

“Then, why are you all here?” Oliver asked politely.

“He wanted us to carry his luggage. You're free to come, Mr. Mayor!” the serious cop shouted. 

“Is this a scam or something?” Oliver asked. A man emerged out of the shotgun side of a black car. He had dark skin, no hair, wore a black tuxedo, and was about a head shorter than Oliver.

“Yep, the Mayor’s moving in,” Oliver said, staring at the ground. The Mayor strode toward Oliver. He reached his hand out.

“Hello, I’m the Mayor.” Oliver shook the Mayor’s hand.

“Hi, I’m Oliver. So they said you wanted to live here?”

“Only for a few days. I got in trouble with some bills. Apparently, my bill notifications were just disappearing into thin air. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, my bill notifications don’t disappear.”

“Well, then, you are a lucky man,” the Mayor said, pushing past Oliver and entering the house.

“Okay, guys, let’s unload his stuff!” shouted the serious cop.

“Wait, wait, wait, Mayor!” Oliver said, stepping in front of the Mayor. “You can’t just live here. I-it’s my house.”

“Well, my great-grandpa lived here. Makes it mine all the same.” The Mayor stepped past Oliver and continued walking.

Is that how this works? Oliver wondered.

***

Oliver found the Mayor in his room. His luggage was already prepared.

“Uh, Mayor, this is my room. You can’t take this one,” Oliver said, his voice firm but not unkind.

“Well, what’s taken can’t be taken back,” the Mayor said, turning to Oliver.

“What?”

“Means I’ve taken it. You can’t take it back.” Oliver struggled to contain his rising anger and shut his mouth before he said anything too offensive.

“Fine, I’ll move into the guest room,” Oliver said, grabbing his blanket and pillow.

“That’s more like it,” the Mayor said, smirking.

Oliver left the room, leaving the Mayor alone.

What’s next? Is he going to make himself a ham sandwich in my fridge? Oliver dropped the pillow and blanket onto the guest bed. Oliver pulled his phone from his pocket and called Arthur. The phone rang for a moment.

“Hey,” Arthur said through the phone.

“Hey, Arthur, something’s come up.”

“Already?”

“Yeah, the Mayor just moved into my house.” Arthur didn’t speak for a moment.

“I’m sorry, but did you just say the Mayor? Why?” Arthur asked.

“His bill notifications disappeared. He didn’t know when to pay them, so I’m guessing he got kicked out of his house because of it,” Oliver answered.

“The Mayor got kicked out of his house?”

“Apparently. So, I don’t know what I’m gonna do. He just stole my bedroom. I’m now sleeping in the guest room,” Oliver informed, running his hand down his short blonde hair.

“He sounds like a pain,” Arthur said.

“Sure is so far. I don’t know how long he’s staying. But he did only say a few days.”

“Well, there’s some hope.”

“Yeah. Okay, I’ll call you back if it gets any worse,” Oliver informed.

“Please do.”

“Bye,” Oliver hung up the phone and entered the kitchen. There, he found the Mayor eating a ham sandwich.

“Where did you get that?” Oliver asked. The Mayor pointed to Oliver’s white fridge. Oliver sighed.

“Okay, Mayor. I’ve got to make some rules you must follow,” Oliver said. The Mayor swallowed too soon and began to cough. He grabbed the nearest water bottle and began to gulp it.

That was my last water bottle… Oliver thought angrily. The Mayor wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

“Did you say rules, son?” the Mayor asked, “say that word to my face!”

“I can’t allow you to live here if you do not follow the rules,” Oliver stated. The Mayor grumbled and rolled his eyes.

“Fine! But keep it simple.”

“Number one: do not eat any snacks out of my fridge without asking,” Oliver said.

“Stupid rule. But sure.”

“Rule number two: please don’t trash the place,” Oliver informed as the Mayor dropped the empty water bottle. The Mayor immediately picked up the water bottle and chucked it in the trash.

“Perfect. Rule number three: please wash your own clothes. Because I’m not doing it for you, and that’s it,” Oliver said.

“Easy, thought there was going to be more,” the Mayor said.

“I said I was going to keep it simple.”

“And that you did. I’m heading to my new bed. I’m exhausted and could use a good night’s sleep.” The Mayor entered his room.

I might as well, too, Oliver thought. He hadn’t realized how exhausted he was; the moment was too wild to even pay attention to it.

Oliver crawled into his bed and pulled the covers over himself. It wasn’t long until sleep overtook him.

***

Oliver opened his eyes, sunlight pouring through the window. He hoped he was dreaming about the whole ‘Mayor moving in’ thing, but then he realized he was still in the guest room. Oliver sighed and put his hands over his face. He wasn’t excited to find out if the Mayor had listened to the rules. He got out of bed and left for the kitchen. He didn’t expect the kitchen to look exactly like it did when he fell asleep. The Mayor, still in his tuxedo, was sipping out of a coffee mug. Another mug was placed on the counter.

“It’s like noon. You sleep late,” the Mayor commented.

“When did you get up?” Oliver asked.

“Eh, the usual seven, maybe six o’clock.”

Usual!? Oliver thought.

“Now, come on! I didn’t make an extra coffee just to be not drinking,” the Mayor said, gesturing to the extra mug. Oliver grabbed the handle and brought it to his lips, taking a sip. It was bitter as can be, but Oliver didn’t say anything.

“Well, I’ve gotta get going if I’m gonna make some money,” the Mayor said, dumping out the rest of his coffee in the sink and leaving the mug in it.

Rule number four: wash your own dishes, Oliver thought to himself.

“Where do you work?” Oliver asked.

“I’m being interviewed for a high-paying job right outside of town. Pray I get it.” The Mayor went to the front door.

“Mayor, remember if you need anything. I’ve probably got it,” Oliver said.

“Thanks, Oliver.” The Mayor left the house and entered his black car, leaving Oliver silent.

What now? With the day off of work, I’ve got nothing to do. Oliver pondered several ideas for a moment. I’ll ask Arthur if I can come over.

Oliver pulled out his phone and messaged his brother.

"Is it fine with you and Scarlett if I come over?" he sent the message. Oliver waited for a moment. Arthur replied, his message saying:

"Please do!" with a smiling emoji. Oliver hearted the message, grabbed his keys, and started for his car.

***

Oliver arrived at Arthur’s house. He avoided the bicycles on their driveway.

Classic Ezra and Mia, Oliver thought joyfully. He parked behind Arthur’s car. He pulled out the key and hopped out of the vehicle. When he entered, he was greeted by his energetic niece and nephew.

“Uncle Oliver!” they both shouted.

“Hey guys!” he gave them both a hug. Arthur and Scarlett entered, both embracing Oliver.

“It would be so nice to talk to somebody about the recent events,” Oliver said.

“Well, we’re always happy to help, “ Arthur said.

“Come on in,” Scarlett said kindly, gesturing for him to enter.

The three adults sat around the kitchen counter while the two kids played in the living room.

“Arthur told me about the Mayor living in your house,” Scarlett stated.

“Yeah, not super psyched about that.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Arthur asked.

“Not anything in the moment.”

"If there is anything, you have us," Scarlett informed.

"Thank you."

“Uncle Oliver!” Ezra called.

“Yeah?” Oliver asked, hopping off his chair and kneeling to meet his niece and nephew's eyes.

“Isn’t the Mayor living with you?” Mia asked.

“Yes, only for a little while. He just needs to make some more money, then he can move back home.”

“I want the Mayor to live with us!” Ezra said excitedly. Oliver ruffled the boy's hair.

“Might not be as awesome,” Oliver said. His phone began to ring in his pocket. He pulled up his cell; the Mayor was calling.

“Oh, sorry, I’ve gotta take this.” Oliver walked off and answered the phone.

“What is it?”

“I’ve got some important news; please come quick,” the Mayor said, then hung up the phone.

“Um, sorry for the quick leave. The Mayor said he has some important news,” Oliver said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Arthur said.

“Okay, bye, guys!” Oliver said. Each one of their family members said goodbye. Oliver exited the house and drove back home.

***

Oliver opened the door to his house and found the Mayor standing in the kitchen.

“Hey, what’s the important news?” Oliver asked.

“I’m gettin’ my house back,” the Mayor stated.

“Wait, what?” Oliver asked.

“Apparently, the reason why my bill notifications were disappearing was because my neighbor, Jared Collins, was stealing them. He’s been tryin’ to run for president for years. He does not like me, like, with a capital ’n’. For example, once, he got a snow machine and made me have Christmas in July. July! It was a nice Christmas party, though. But yeah, he’s being actively taken care of by the cops.”

“So they’re giving you back your house?”

“Yes. Though they said if I miss one bill payment, I’m living with you again.”

“Please, don’t miss a payment,” Oliver pleaded.

“Oh, ho ho, no! ‘Cause I hate your house,” The Mayor left the house, slamming the door behind him. Oliver sat in silence for a moment.

“Bye…”