Chapter 5

The following day, James felt a little better about his job predicament. This was helped by quite a bit of chocolate and making a Pyramid Head-shaped voodoo doll out of a decapitated Barbie he found in Laura's room. It now had somewhere around fifty pins protruding from various orifices in the plastic idol's body.

To continue to keep his mind off of the matter at hand (and in turn, to keep his mood up), James took to cleaning the house. His favorite time to clean was when nobody was home; therefore, he could wear his favorite pink cleaning apron (which he used to keep his clothes from getting cleaning chemicals on them), and use his favorite cleaning tool. The Swiffervac was a good therapeutic item, although James could not tell you why even if you interrogated him with Chinese water torture. It was a lightweight vacuum and a useful dusting tool combined in one awesome utensil. James used it often, even when he wasn't feeling down. On a good day, the Swiffervac made him giddy, and people often asked him if he had taken drugs that day.

On top of the Swiffervac, James had discovered the wonders of the device known as the iPod. For those few of you that have been living under a rock for around a decade and have never heard of an iPod, I apologize for your ignorance, and James completely agrees with me. His iPod became his best friend at times. On it, he could listen to whatever music he wanted, whenever he wanted to. He could listen to music that would get him made fun of in many circles at any time of day. He may or may not have had a small altar to it in his closet.

At the moment, James was Swiffervaccing the hardwood floor in the living room and dancing to the music on his iPod. Oh, and he was singing too, but that wasn't something he wanted people to know.

"I'm the F to the E, R, G, the I, the E / And can't no other lady put it down like me / I'm Fergalicious, so delicious / My body stay vicious--!"

He was interrupted by a loud crash from downstairs. The clerk turned off the Swiffervac and pulled his headphones out of his ears. "Pyramid Head!" he shouted. "Are you okay?" He wasn't sure why he was even asking the masked man if he was okay; Pyramid Head had been hit by at least three cars going full speed down the street in his lifetime, and he had walked away unscathed from each accident. (Coincidentally, he was drunk for each incident.)

However, James was fairly certain that his roommate wouldn't make the high-pitched cries of exertion that was coming from downstairs. These noises he did not recognize.

Oh, crap! I'm being burgled!

He glanced around quickly and decided that his Swiffervac was the best item for self-defense in his immediate vicinity. He picked it up, readied it like he would a baseball bat, and began to step lightly down the stairs. There were a few more small crashes before he got to the family room to see what was making the ruckus. When James arrived, he put down the appliance and breathed a sigh of relief. Halfway stuck in the window was a pair of skinny legs clothed in red pants, and a torso in a light beige camel hair sweater. On the floor was an overturned box of Laura's toys.

"Angela!" he cried. He ran up to the window and tried to help her down.

Angela, however, did not take kindly to a strange pair of hands on her waist. She kicked at James, knocking the wind out of his chest. "Go away!" she yelled. "I can do it myself!"

The clerk backed away from the window gasping. Indeed, the teenager managed to wiggle herself through the window and land on the floor lightly. In her hand was a small measuring cup.

Angela was a very close friend of James's. He took a series of classes at the nearby community college to earn accreditation in some sort of computer field that he ended up never using. However, Angela sat next to him and class and they became friends.

She was straightening her sweater when she caught sight of James. She gasped and smiled at him, as if she hadn't realized that he was there before.

"Oh! Hello, James!" she said sweetly. He blinked at her. She remembered the measuring cup in her hand. "I was wondering if I could borrow a cup of sugar. I-I'm making some, uh, baklava, you see, and I ran out."

James blinked. He was wondering why she didn't just use the door. Not really wanting to discuss the matter, he just said, "Um…okay."

They turned to go up the stairs when heavy footsteps approached from the stairs leading to the basement. Angela held back for a moment, wide eyed and a little frightened. James turned to the sound. Out of the basement appeared Pyramid Head, mercifully fully clothed this time. The masked man saw them and leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. Even though his face was covered, James knew he was grinning.

Pyramid Head cleared his throat. "Hello, Angela," he said in a very fake British accent.

Angela relaxed once she realized who it was. She had met Pyramid Head a couple of times before, when he had come over to visit James for Christmas a few years ago. "Oh, hello, Pyramid Head. How are you?"

"I'm smashing, darling, and yourself?" he inquired, continuing with the accent.

"I-I'm doing well, thank you. That's an interesting accent. Where did you get it?"

Pyramid Head chuckled. "I actually picked it up on my recent travels to Alaska, Indonesia, and Morocco. I spent a year trekking across that continuous stretch of land." He gestured.

Pyramid Head had never been to any of those places, James could vouch for that. Well, except for Alaska. During the summer between sophomore and junior year of college, Pyramid Head convinced him to go on a road trip with him. The masked man forgot to mention that, even though he had appointed himself navigator for the trip (primarily because he lacked the proper amount of peripheral vision to operate a motor vehicle), he could not read a map. Therefore, while they were trying very hard to make it to Daytona Beach, they ended up in Nome. James did have second thoughts when he saw snow-capped mountains when they were crossing the Yukon, and especially when they were asked for their passports when they had entered Canada, but Pyramid Head figured that they were just looking for illegal immigrants that had made a community in a system of caves in the Appalachian Mountains.

Angela was better at geography than James was. "Oh, how did you manage that?" she asked sweetly. "They're nowhere near each other."

Pyramid Head scoffed. "What are you talking about, my dear? They're all right next to each other." He paused for a moment. "Ah…it appears you have been duped by The Man."

The girl digested that for a moment. "Oh. Okay."

James was just watching this exchange unsurely. He took this moment to direct the girl's attention back to himself. "So…what about that cup of sugar?"

Angela again noticed the measuring cup in her hand, as if she hadn't realized it was there before. "Oh, right!" She smiled at the masked man. "It was nice seeing you, Pyramid Head."

"The pleasure was all mine, Angela." He approached her and kissed her hand. "Let's have lunch sometime."

The girl smiled, her face turning a faint pink. "I'd like that."

Pyramid Head grinned (I guess). "Until then, my darling—adieu!" And with that, the masked man retreated fancifully into the basement.

James was really at a loss for words regarding his roommate. Again. These moments of impairment in regard to describing Pyramid Head were becoming more and more frequent as the days passed. He feared that someday Pyramid Head would only be able to be described with only one word: "Pyralicious." Fergie would not be pleased.

"Um…the sugar's upstairs," he managed to repeat.

Angela turned to him and smiled again. "Oh, right."

They headed up to the kitchen, where James filled the measuring cup from the sugar jar.

"Thanks, James," said Angela, taking the measuring cup back.

"No problem."

They stood there for a moment in awkward silence.

"Well," said Angela, breaking the silence. "I'd better get back to my baklava. I'll see you later!" She smiled as she walked out the back door.

James watched her leave and begun thinking about all of the times they'd had together. The first time they met in class. The day that they spent at the mall, trying on stupid clothing and laughing. Those were good times--!

"So, you like Angela, huh?"

The clerk nearly had a heart attack. Pyramid Head was leaning against the counter next to him, looking out the back door, as well. He was speaking in his normal voice again.

"What? No! No. She's just…just a friend."

Pyramid Head nudged his roommate in the side. "Come on, James. You know there's something there."

James stammered and sighed. "I can't. She's one of my best friends."

Pyramid Head scoffed. "Pshh! Who cares?"

James wasn't really listening. "And she's not exactly sane."

"You two would be a perfect match for each other!"

"I guess so…" James comprehended the context of Pyramid Head's statement. "What?"

Pyramid Head folded his hands and placed the beak of his helmet on top of them daintily. "Nothing," he said innocently.

James buried his face in his hands. "I wish I had Mary back…"

They both stood at the counter in silence for a moment. Pyramid Head stood up and began to walk away. "Well, at least that apron of yours made a wonderful impression on dearest Angela," he said before jogging back downstairs.

James looked in puzzlement, and then remembered his apron. It was pink and slightly frilly. He buried his face further in his hands, if that was even possible.