A Visit from Home
A neon green glow lit up the room in harmony to the screaming buzzer that accompanied it. Subway trains charged past the second storey bedroom window of Dave’s apartment every few minutes, acting as his failsafe ‘snooze’ button.
“Man I’m getting too old for this shit” moans Dave, as he tossed and turned under the sheets in search of a comfortable posture worthy of being pulled back into his snoring slumber.
It had been a long day yesterday for Dave. This was not because of him catching up to his daily online gaming spree to slay the baddies in front of his computer, but it was more the fact that he had been rushing around Manhattan looking for an ideal outfit for Brett and Jermaine’s “Super Choice New Zealand Themed Party” for the following day.‘Super Choice’? What the hell does that even mean?
Is it code for the choice of New Zoolander girls that I can get my ins on at the party?
Dave still had not grasped the idea that the folk duo who he had known for over a year now had come from a country he had never even heard of. For all he knew they were but figments of his own imagination, but he had sold them a guitar once so they were definitely real, or at least that’s what he’s come to believe during the time in which he’d known them for.
After Dave’s usual weak attempt at getting ready to open up shop which would usually consist of getting dressed, having breakfast and brushing his teeth in the space of ten minutes, he headed down the narrow stairway to the crowded shop floor of his apartment complex.
“Another day in paradise; that’s if paradise looked like the depths of a school janitor’s closet room. Hell, I might as well work as a school janitor. I’d probably make more money selling drugs to the high school kids than selling any of this crap!”
Day in and day out it was Dave’s job to man the pawn shop he loved so dearly, yet sometimes he would secretly wish that it would burn down so that he would be able to collect a hefty insurance claim on the shop and his belongings. Although this was a recurring fantasy of his, this would not necessarily be the most convenient way of doing so seeing as his flat was but one short stair climb up from the shop itself, but there was no harm in fantasising about it.
Three-stringed guitars hung along the side of the wall, decommissioned kitchen appliances were stacked under the wall shelving units behind the sales desk, and countless plastic hobby-boxes filled with odds and ends cluttered the remaining space in the shop, leaving ample room for customers to walk in and have a browse.
Dave had thought of clearing up the store a bit for those occasional customers with wheelchairs, but then again what kind of wheelchair bound New Yorker would come in looking for the latest in Dave’s running shoe collection?
Hours had passed and many cups of coffee had been spilt throughout the day. Dave had been waiting all day for this party to roll along.
He pulled the invitation from his back pocket and began to navigate his eyes through the clutter of New Zealand memorabilia photo cut-outs which crowded the majority of the piece of card. Panning through the collage of photographs including the famous toothbrush fence of Te Pahu and Jermaine’s hand drawn Kiwi bird which resembled an old pinecone more than anything else, Dave landed his eyes on the party’s initial kick off time.
5:30PM? That’s way too early to start a party. They must have one of those strange sleep cycles only those New Zanker people could have.
Nevertheless, Dave proceeded to close up shop before any more customers came and pestered him for more faulty goods.
With a hasty fit of his New Zealand themed costume and stuffing a quick sandwich down his guller, Dave rushed his way down the steps of his apartment building and proceeded to venture onto the dim lit streets of New York.
* * *
This must be the place.
Standing at the foot of Brett and Jermaine’s entrance staircase, Dave double checked the number on his invitation to the numbers partially screwed on and painted onto the front door.
A cheeky grin crept across Dave’s face, quietly proud of himself for finding their place. The directions on the invitation were a huge help for Dave, as he had previously walked around the block several times in search for the exact same address.
Dave knocked on the large, red wooden door and waited for an answer.
The noisy streets behind him yearned for his attention as every passing yellow cab sang carols of rusty horns and screeching tyres. Trees pulling their way out of the sidewalk gave partial shade to passersby with their leafy canopies. Sounds of children playing on the street corner, dancing with danger with oncoming traffic as their soccer ball rolled gracefully across the street.
There was a sound at the door, followed by an eye peeking out through the side window. Moments later, Dave was let through the cavity of the rotten wooden door frame.
Dave was met by Jermaine in the dark and grimy hallway. Last week’s newspaper still hung out of the tenants’ letterboxes and many looked as if they hadn’t been emptied in years.
“Jermaine! Good to see you man. Listen, I wasn’t able to bring along any hot babes but I—“
“Dave, you know this is a New Zealand themed party aye?” Jermaine interrupted.
“Yeah dude, it took me a while to find but I found it in this sweet costume place just around the corner from 42nd Street, fits perfect too man you should come check it—“
“You dressed up as Steve Irwin.”
Dave stood in the hallway wearing his khaki short shorts and partially buttoned up khaki shirt, an alligator tooth chain around his neck and a dirty pair of khaki coloured work boots.
“Well duhh, it wasn’t as if I didn’t know anything about the guy. He ran around in the wild chasing giant lizard things and all that, jeez I thought you’d know seeing as you’re the ones hosting this party.”
“Yes Dave, but you dressed up as Steve Irwin.”
A look of confusion mapped out Dave’s face.
“Why, did somebody already show up as Steve?”
“No Dave, Steve Irwin is... Never mind. Come on up mate, Brett’s getting the ham and cheese toasties ready.”
With not a single ounce of hesitation Dave bolted up the marble steps of the complex, swinging himself around the corners on the handrails.
“I can smell them from here dude! Damn I already love New Zeaworld!”
“New Zealand!” Jermaine yelled.
* * *
Brett and Jermaine’s apartment had been decorated beyond recognition, but strangely enough made their flat feel more vibrant than it was before. Pint-sized ‘All Blacks’ flags littered the entire flat, sticking out of already occupied plant vases and hanging off of the ceiling fan. Stuffed animals were placed neatly on ever seat ranging from Kiwi birds to Tuataras, which Dave mistook for native New Zealand hedgehogs and miniature alligators.
Brett stood over the stove preparing the cheese toasties for the party. He turned to Dave and Jermaine as they waltzed in through the front door.
Brett took one look at Dave and then to Jermaine for an explanation. Jermaine shrugged as he stood awkwardly next to Dave and his outfit.
“Dave, you dressed up as Steve Irwin.”
Dave’s face turned from content to frustrated.
“Are you guys screwing with me? Because I looked for this outfit for days and the lady told me that this was definitely what I was looking for. I asked her if she had anything that a New Englander would wear--”
“New Zealander.” Brett chimed in.
“Yeah whatever man. I thought you guys would be happy that I’d at least put some effort into this getup. Come on guys give me a break here!”
The pair shrugged and continued to cater for the party.
“So what are you supposed to be Jermaine?” asked Dave with a quizzed look on his face.
Jermaine’s skin was covered from head to toe in black tribal designs, a grass skirt and a large carved wooden spear. The getup was impressive, although Jermaine didn’t quite suit the character of who he was trying to be. He didn’t seem to enthusiastic about his costume.
“I’m a Maori tribesman. Yeah, New Zealand culture is riddled with these sorts of outfits.”
Dave’s puzzled face turned into a huge smile.
“Wow dude! Like one of those evil wizards from Lord of the Rings!”
Jermaine had given up with Dave.
“Yes, from Lord of the Rings, evil wizard, yes.”
“He’s not from Lord of the Rings,” added Brett placing his warm toasties neatly onto a large dinner plate, “he’s dressed up as New Zealand indigenous tribe chiefs.”
“Brett... don’t. He’ll only ask more questions.”
“So who are you Brett?” asked Dave.
“I’m the Prime Minister of New Zealand.”
“The Prime what?”
Dave’s face resorted straight back to a state of confusion.
“I don’t mean to be a dick Brett but you look like a very strange looking woman wearing a suit.”
“Yeah her name is Helen Clarke. She used to be the Prime Minister a couple of years back. I wanted to go as John Key who’s our current Prime Minister but they didn’t have the silly hairpiece to go with it, so I went as Helen instead.”
Jermaine looked up at Brett from the kitchen table.
“You do look a little silly though Brett. Maybe you should’ve just got a haircut to make yourself seem more like John rather than a Helen.”
Walking up to the blue pin striped sofa in the corner of the room, Dave knocked off the stuffed animals for a comfortable seat amongst the dense amount of decorations. To Dave’s observation it seemed as if he was the only person who had shown up, or maybe they were still yet to show up?
“So when are the hot babes coming over? I bet you’ve invited some great looking ‘sheilas’!”
“We don’t say ‘sheilas’ in New Zealand Dave, it’s what an Aussie would say.” explained Jermaine.
“Sorry Jermaine but I ain’t really a fan of his music let alone what he says. I can’t even understand him on TV half of the time.”
Brett and Jermaine glanced over at each other and shook their heads.
“Whys that?”
“Well she showed up outside our flat with a pillow and sleeping bag early this morning. We’re not the kind to delve too deep into her realm so we cancelled it.”
“But you didn’t cancel it.”
“Right.” replied Jermaine.
“Awesome! My very own New Zohan party!”
“New Zealand!” yelled Brett from the kitchen.
Trying his hand at the remote Dave attempted to switch through the TV channels, receiving nothing but static and a screeching noise. The old 70s Television looked as if it had been through a lot during its lifespan, with little nicks and scrapes splattered across its entire outer casing. Sparks would be seen being spat out from behind the TV every so often, spraying stars onto the navy blue apartment wallpaper.
Jermaine oddly showed little interest with Dave’s TV issue seeing as it was their own to mend. He continued tidying up the stray decorations which had been knocked over when Dave first arrived.
“Why don’t you guys just use some of that New Zeeter ingenuity? I mean it’s probably just a faulty aerial. I can go check it out if you want?”
Jermaine seemed unsure about Dave’s request.
“They were wooden pegs Jermaine!” bellowed Brett.
“Oh... yes, they were wooden ones. Yes.”
Dave rose up from his seat in front of the TV in protest.
“I don’t know how you New Skyland people fix things back home—“
“New Zealand!” yelled the pair.
“Right whatever, Im just saying that here in America we create our own opportunities, and this broken aerial here, my friends, is an opportunity that has come a knockin’ at my door.”
“Well if anything Dave, it’s knocking on our door, seeing as we live here.” mentioned Jermaine with a dazed look on his mug.
Shrugging his comment off, Dave advanced his way to the front door amongst all of the flax bushes and stuffed Tui birds, swiping the ferns trees out of his face as he struggled to grab the door handle.
“Dave, be careful up there! It’s dangerous, and very high off of the ground!”
By the time Brett’s warning had left his lips, Dave had barrelled up the stairway towards the very top of the complex.
* * *
Wrenching open the doorway to the roof, Dave had finally made it outside after his long stair climb of three floors, which in his case was the most exercise he had done all week.
A large pigeon cage unit had been constructed in the far corner of the silent rooftop. The sound of hundreds of pigeons was all Dave could fathom from the sky’s eerie silence. Nothing but a few half filled plastic buckets of rainwater and a number of stray soccer balls accommodated the building’s top edge.
To the far left of the rooftop stood the almighty aerial, slightly overhanging off the side of the building and onto the taxi cab filled street below.
Pfft! Lazy New Zeepers.
Dave began to fantasise about the scenario in his head.
The world has called for a man of many talents and wonders but he has not come, until this very day where I, Dave the all powerful handyman has arrived to solve the world’s home appliance problems!
The aerial stemmed off at an odd angle the very corner of the wind riddled rooftop; almost like the flag poles you’d see saluting VIPs at the front of an expensive city centre hotel.
Dave took a peek over the edge of the roof’s eave.
“Holy crap. That’s a long way down alright.”
Dave began to doubt his decision of fixing the aerial, but stood his ground and convinced himself that he was more than capable of fixing Brett and Jermaine’s TV. He mounted his left foot onto the roof’s eave before firmly gripping the main stem of the TV aerial with both hands. Kilometres of cable had been webbed around the aerials intricate system, falling in the way of Dave’s approach as he tried to pull up his remaining right foot onto the eave as well.
He was now in a bit of a sticky situation. Dave had come between the overhanging aerial stem and the drop of doom to the streets below, firmly holding onto the metal object to prevent him from falling backwards into the sea of yellow.
You can do this Dave; it’s all in the hips... and in the arms of course. Who says that? ‘It’s all in the hips’? I don’t know a single person who’s ever used that phrase in their life! The last thing I would want to be told before doing something this dangerou—
There was a jolt from the aerials main stem. A snap, crackle and pop came from the TV cables being ripped from their floor bolts. The cable ripped and ricocheted its wound up tension towards Dave, before the entire aerial began to give way on him. Meters and meters of black cord were wrapped around Dave’s entire legs and ankles, tightening ever so much the more he began to fall back.
It all happened so fast. Dave shut his eyes faster than you could say... eyes, and began to plummet down to the gum riddled sidewalk below.
“Help! Heeeelp! Somebody get me down from here!” screamed Dave in absolute terror.
Dave had never felt so humiliated yet so lucky in his life until his body began to rotate in the wind, bringing to light the apartment window stationed a foot away from where he was hanging. If that wasn’t humiliating enough, he was suspended before Brett and Jermaine’s open kitchen window, who in the meantime had been stuffing their faces with cheese toasties before waltzing up to the window for a good laugh.
Fear still dominated Dave.
“Guys, get me the hell down from here! I’m serious!”
Brett put down his cup of tea on the window sill and chuckled as he yelled out to him.
“Hey Dave! Dave!”
“What man?! I’m kinda in a world of shit right now dude!”
“At least you came properly dressed for the party now aye Dave?” added Jermaine with a giant grin on his face.
“What the hell has that got to do with anything you jerk?!”
Brett chimed in his response with his signature form of wit.
“Well now that we know AJ Hackett has joined us, we can finally get this party started!”
High five.
--Robert McCambridge
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