Max Downstairs: Episode 2

Keisha grabbed the letter first.

To the Wachter Family:
It has come to our attention that you have an unregistered tenant living on your premises, which is a violation of Section 51 of the Springfield Housing Code. Our inspectors will arrive at noon tomorrow to: 1). Inspect for suitable living conditions; 2). Gather information about the circumstances; 3). Interview the unregistered tenant; 4). Issue instructions as to next steps; 5). Collect the fine for harboring a potentially dangerous tenant.

Mom looked at Dad. Dad looked at Mom. They both looked at Arty and Keisha. “How’d they find out?” Mom said.

Arty glared at her. “It wasn’t me!”

Keisha huffed. “Me, either. I can’t believe you thought that.”

“Never mind," said Mom. “We’ll deal with that later. Right now, we need to protect Max. And that starts with removing all traces of him.”

“We can’t,” said Arty. “It’s Max. He came with the house. He’s our friend.”

“Exactly.” Dad said. “Which is why he needs to disappear. So he can stay here.”

Keisha tossed up her hands. “Dad, that makes absolutely no sense.”

“Think of it this way,” he said. “If we make it look like no one else lives here or ever has, they’ll leave us alone. Things will go back to normal.”

Their special supper would have to wait. All four of them scrambled downstairs. Max wasn’t there; he'd probably left for the woods.

Keisha covered the feeding slab with a pile of cardboard boxes. Arty swept the troll hairs off the dirt floor. Mom and Dad bagged up the straw and folded the pile of sheets and towels and blankets that Max used as a bed. Then they all stood before the stone “garden” that Max had tended every morning before he went to sleep.

“We can’t touch that,” Arty said.

“It’s his sacred place,” said Keisha. “It’ll kill him.”

“Here’s the hard truth,” said Dad. “If they find out about Max, someone might kill him anyway.”

Arty gasped. “Kill Max? Why?”

“Let’s just say this isn’t the first time a troll was found in the neighborhood,” Dad said. “People panicked. Some of them thought he was an alien and wanted to run painful tests. Others thought he was responsible for the disappearing wildlife population in the woods. And nearly everyone agreed he was a danger to society and needed to be punished. He was barely able to escape… if he did escape. He was never heard from again. So, Max’s sacred stones have to go.”

Keisha grew a sly smile. “But Dad, you can’t take away my hobby!” 

“Yeah!” said Arty. “OUR hobby. We’ve worked on this stone garden so long, ever since we read about Stonehenge and the rock formations in Norway.”

Mom looked at Dad. Dad looked at Mom. “We can work with that,” she said. “Right now though, we have to do something with those bags of feed outside.”

There were at least 30 of them in the shed, but they had no clue where to hide them. One thing was for certain: they had to. They grabbed all the evidence of Max having been there and trudged up the long, long set of stairs. 

Boom-bah-boom-boom!
Dad raced ahead.
Someone was pounding at the door.

Ingredients needed for the next scene: Who was at the door? Who found out about Max (was it really the Housing Authority) and how?  How will the family hide Max?

—Jody (with help from story ingredients provided by BDB, Malcolm, Fiona, Kane, Parker, and unnamed contributors ... Thanks!) 

The Recipe: In the comments, give us your best ideas to answer our questions. We’ll collect your answers Saturday at 12 noon (Eastern Daylight Time) and will use as many as we can to write the next scene. If you want to, sign your first name to your idea so we can give you credit.

Come back Monday to see what we wrote!

P.S. If we don’t take your suggestion this time, be sure to keep playing—we need your help to cook up a good story!