Love in Shimmering Chartreuse

Even his father’s voice in the back of his mind, reminding him that he was more than the place he came from, couldn’t motivate him to move away from his truck. He glanced up at the beautiful house again and shook his head, wondering what the neighbors would think when they saw the faded grey and blue pick-up in the driveway. The 1978 Prospector had been his old man’s well before he was born and with a lot of TLC, they’d kept her steady and reliable. Still, the shine had dulled from her weathered paint job over the course of the last two winters, both unexpectedly harsh. He’d need to sand her down, prime her and apply a new coat before next winter hit.

With a sigh, he stared at the front door, wondering what in the world he’d gotten himself into. Never in a billion years had he expected to be chosen as one of the participants in the psychology department’s experiment in the social behavior of housemates.

Tugging the key from his pocket, he stood debating whether to grab something from the truck or check the place out first to see where he’d be going. In the end, he decided to grab his backpack and duffle bag to not waste the trip.

There was an actual welcome mat in front of the door, soft, he realized, once he’d pulled his shoes off before heading in. Plush blue-grey carpet welcomed him, the color stretching on as far as the eye could see. It practically shimmered beneath the bright floor to ceiling windows, and the living spaces, holy shit, talk about spacious. Good thing he’d taken off his shoes, the last thing he wanted to do was dirty the place up on his first day.

There was a huge bay window beside a kitchen filled with more stainless-steel appliances than Koda had ever seen in one place besides a store. Benches and a built-in table sat in a nook offering  a picturesque view of the backyard with its awning-covered patio furniture, built-in grill, and hammocks. Grinning, he imagined laying in one with a sketchbook and animation pens; at least, when it was warmer anyway.

Heading right, he found a large bedroom with an in-suite bathroom. The space was about half the size of the trailer he’d grown up in. He checked the other hall, and found a smaller bathroom and beyond, another bedroom with built-in bookcases and a window with a view of the forest. It was smaller than the other one and tucked toward the back of the house in a spot that seemed quiet and isolated from the communal living space.

He knew a good chunk of the project involved interacting with his new housemate, getting to know one another and planning activities to do during their free time. There was a whole checklist of things they were supposed to accomplish together over the course of the year, on top of the daily journal they were required to keep. All that interaction was going to leave him frazzled. Being able to retreat here would be great for his mental health. Besides, it wasn’t like he was choosing the larger space. He doubted his new housemate would care if he claimed the room way down here.

Depositing his stuff beside the bed, he headed out to the truck to fetch the rest of his belongings, grateful the place was furnished. In the interest of time and cleanliness, he decided to just deposit everything inside the door, then move the truck into the garage and out of the way. It wasn’t as if he had much. His music collection, art desk and supplies, easel, clothes, movies, and books took up the bulk of it, along with his bedding, office chair, single serve coffee pot and portfolios. There was a box of artwork too, all from original pieces he’d designed and printed. Laptop, second monitor, camera, green screen, drawing tablet, they all went inside, along with his desk, which was still in the box from when he purchased it a week ago.

Once everything was inside, he opened the garage door and parked the truck to the left, shocked to see a door on the right side of the garage. Curious, he shut the garage door and tried his key in that lock, only to discover it led to the laundry room. He hadn’t even noticed it on his tour of the house. Grinning at the prospect of not having to bother with the laundromat for the next year, he headed through the house to start moving his things away from the door. In sock covered feet and being careful not to scuff the walls, he made short work of getting everything moved to the center of his bedroom before sitting down with a sigh.

Setting up a room was a bit out of his wheelhouse. With no clue where to begin, he faced the mess, feeling a little overwhelmed.

Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly as he let his eyes skim the space. Besides the bed and dresser, there were two end tables on either side of the bed, a large closet, and an open spot in front of the window. He carried the empty art desk there and set it down, then rolled the chair in front of it, figuring he could roll between desks if he parked the one for his computer in front of the other window. He placed his wooden chest of sheets, linens, towels, and washcloths at the foot of his bed before unloading his books, movies, and CDs into the bookcases, breaking down the boxes one at a time as he emptied them. He sat a lava lamp on each end table along with his Echo Dot and coffee pot. Nothing like being able to get the first pot of coffee started before he’d even gotten out of bed. Satisfied that he was off to a good start, he made his bed, placed a footlocker of records in the closet, then set up his record player and speakers on the dresser. From that point it was easy to set the easel between the art desk and the closet, then go ahead and get his clothes and art supplies unpacked along with his camera gear. That left just his computer stuff, but first he’d need to get the desk built. Looking around, he decided to carry the flattened boxes out to the garage first to give himself some room to work.

He was settling down on the floor with the instructions in one hand and some old Buddy Guy on the stereo turntable when there was a knock on the door.

////

Not having seen a vehicle in the driveway, Kenji didn’t think his roommate had arrived yet. He’d never considered checking the garage, but when soft guitar notes drifted up the hall, he quickly realized he and his parents were not alone in the house. Determined to start off on the right foot, he followed the music to the back of the house, excited to have already discovered one thing he and his roommate had in common, the blues. Knocking on the closed door that greeted him, he bounced with anticipation.

“Yeah?” a voice called over the music.

Taking that as an invitation, Kenji stepped inside, only to be greeted by wary crystalline eyes framed by a long cascade of shimmering blue and white hair, shocking Kenji with the contrast of so many bright hues against ghostly pale skin.

“Hey, I’m Kenji, but you can call me Ken. Guess we’re going to be living together for the year.” Sticking his right hand out, Kenji waited expectantly as his housemate gave a little wave and completely ignored the hand that had been offered him. On top of it, those blue eyes darted away from him and back to the project he’d been working on.

“And your name is?” Kenji prompted, anxiety growing with every silent moment that stretched between them.

“Koda.”

Kenji watched the smaller man fidget with the wood in front of him, fingertips pressed into it like it was taking all his willpower not to whip it at Kenji’s face. The thought alone had him taking a cautious step backwards, just in case Koda decided to give in to the temptation. “Guess I’ll leave you be. Just remember, this experiment is about getting to know one another. Between you and me, you’re off to a bad start.”

With that, Kenji retreated out the door, tense and flustered by the time he reached his parents in the living room. Of course, his mother noticed. She noticed everything. With a sigh, he realized his father and sister had started bringing stuff in, so he hurried to help them.

“Is your new housemate going to come out and meet us?” Kenji’s mother asked.

“Doubtful,” Kenji tossed over his shoulder as he rushed out the door.

His sister nudged him as he reached to gather a basket of clothes out of her truck, the streetlight gleaming off the carbon fiber of his prosthetic arm. “You okay? Are you having second thoughts?”

“A little, he isn’t the friendliest guy around,” Kenji grumbled as they headed back in.

“At least now you know your roommate is a he,” she quipped. “Still can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“You and me both.”

Upon seeking out the other bedroom, he was shocked Koda left him the larger room with the attached bathroom.

“Dang, this is nice,” his sister remarked, nudging him out of her path so she could carry his books in and deposit them in the corner. “At least that’s one good point about doing this. Besides, the kitchen is totally lit. Mom and I checked it out while we were waiting for you. She’s probably in there now putting everything away.”

“I still can’t believe how much kitchen stuff she insisted I bring with me. I doubt I’ll use half of it if the only one I’m cooking for is myself.”

“Who knows, maybe you won’t be.”

Smiling ruefully, he turned and headed back out to the cars to finish bringing things in. Movement out of the corner of his eye made him pause at the entryway to the kitchen to see his mother standing on a chair, arranging the cupboards. With a fond smile he turned his focus to unloading and wondered if it would have been easier to start this new adventure without his family around. Of course, getting all his stuff here would have been a struggle unless he’d finally bitten the bullet and decided to start driving again.

Shuddering at the thought, Kenji made another trip out. The last, as it turned out.

“If you were going to move out you certainly could have done much worse,” Kenji’s father chuckled. “So, do we get to meet who you’ll be living with? I’m curious to see how this matching process turned out. I, for one, will be eager to read the journals if Professor Grisham gets his results published. I don’t see why he wouldn’t, this is a marvelous idea.”

“Yeah, it’s … something anyway,” Kenji said with a sigh. “Not sure about you guys meeting Koda though. He doesn’t seem extremely interested in interacting.”

“Not everyone is as instantly outgoing as you, Kenji.” His father laughed. “I believe if you put your mind to it, you could befriend a porcupine.”

“We might finally have the opportunity to find out,” Kenji muttered.

“Don’t be that way, son. It’s a good thing you’re doing. It feels like you’re finally willing to move forward from the accident. Why don’t you go and ask him again to come out? Could be he’s just shy and needs a bit of extra encouragement.”

“All right. I’ll try, but I don’t promise anything,” Kenji remarked, heading once more for the door at the end of the hall. Along the way he found the laundry room, pleased that he wouldn’t have to cart his things home to get them cleaned. Rapping on Koda’s door, he expected a verbal answer, not the sight of a scowling Koda in a t-shirt that read My dragon can beat up your unicorn. He had purple fuzzy slippers on and a screwdriver in his hand.

“Hey, um, my parents would like to meet you, see who I’ll be living with for the next year,” Kenji hurried to explain as Koda’s scowl only grew deeper.

“No thanks, I really can’t right now.” Koda moved to shut the door, but Kenji shoved his prosthetic hand against it to hold it open. He could see the shock in Koda’s eyes as he stared from the hand to his face and back again.

“You’re being extremely rude,” Kenji remarked. “I don’t think it’s too much to ask …”

“You know what’s rude?” Koda cut him off. “Expecting others to react the way you think they should. I said no. I even said thanks. I meant both. Now, can you leave me alone for the rest of the night, please?”

“With pleasure,” Kenji huffed before turning and stalking back up the hall. He found his family in the kitchen with the freezer door open, his mother staring into the depths with a frown on her face.

“You can forget about meeting him today,” Kenji informed them.

“Half of the freezer is filled with boxed dinners,” his mother replied forlornly.

“Don’t worry, Mom, I plan to cook my meals,” he assured her. “I promise, I’ll ride my bike to the supermarket tomorrow and stock up.”

“You’ll do no such thing. I’ll come get you and take you to the market, we’ll get fresh things. Once you can see how much you can fit in here, you can decide how often you’ll need to shop.”

“Okay, Mom. What time?”

“Let’s say eight.”

“I’ll be ready,” he relented, knowing she’d fret if she didn’t ensure he had enough food stocked up for an apocalypse if the zombies ever happened to rise. Smiling, he hugged her and thanked all three of them for helping him move in.

His mother glanced towards the hallway and back to Kenji. “I do not like the idea of leaving you alone with a stranger. What if something were to happen to you? We have no description of him to give to the police. No way of identifying him if he turns out to be a serial killer or a lunatic or …”

“Mom,” he remarked calmly, pulling her into a gentle hug, “I am a third-degree black belt. I’m not really worried about protecting myself. I promise he’s not even close to my size and he doesn’t look like a serial killer. More like one of those sad emo kids that hang around the movie theater. It will be fine. I promise. Why don’t you let Dad take you out to dinner before you head home? It’s been awhile since you two had a date night without dragging one of us kids along.”

“Your father and I enjoy your company,” she remarked.

“And we enjoy yours,” his sister jumped in, helping him out, “but Kenji’s right. You two deserve a night out. Don’t worry, I’ll make a pizza run before I leave him alone for the night. Who knows, the elusive roommate might make an appearance if there aren’t so many of us around.”

Huffing, their mother narrowed her eyes at both siblings. “Ganging up on me now I see, harrumph.” They both laughed at that, getting her to laugh too before taking their father’s arm and allowing him to lead her out.

“Thanks,” Kenji remarked.

“No problem, besides, pizza sounds really good. You want your usual?”

“Please.”

“Cool.”

Kenji reached for his wallet only to have her wave him off. “My treat this time. Besides, something tells me you’ll need all the fuel you can get to deal with the enigmaticMr. Grumpy.”

Kenji let out a rough chuckle, hoping he didn’t sound too bitter. “No shit.”