Neighborhead

It was only natural for me to become a teacher. It is true you know; two heads are better than one? Well I have got at least about 500. No, not heads, but people, all living their lives in each of the 500 houses that make up my body. I seem to have a good rapport with the folks that live through me, they all learn on their own and tell me what they know. I can ask them questions and they’ll do what they can to answer them. They usually make a kind of low murmur during the day, like a room full of people that’s far away. They quiet down when I ask them to, usually during my lessons.

I teach many things, from history to mathematics, but my students call me Mr. Home. I learned my name from the people who live in my houses. When I was young, I asked them what my name was, and they called me Home. I’ve been around for a long while, generations of little people have inhabited these places, and the style of their abodes have changed with each passing group. Sometimes they have bigger houses, other times they scale them back down. The biggest house is on the top of my head, and that’s where their leader lives, right above by two big window eyes. He likes to decorate his roof. most of the time there’s peace in my houses, and sometimes there’s even a little conflict between neighbors, but I’m happy.

People without houses on them ask me all the time how I can do anything with all those houses and little people flitting about, and I in turn ask them who they talk to all the time? It must be dreadful being alone, I couldn’t imagine it, since the day I began to exist I’ve had people in my houses. They’re my friends and we have a mutual relationship. A new year is beginning at the university and I get to meet a whole new class of kids, who will no doubt be taken aback like they are every year.

I introduce myself and write my name on the board. The classroom is warm, but not a humid feeling, more like a toasty fireside warm. The sun illuminates the flecks of dust and chalk like stars, and the leader’s newly decorated roof glints brightly, surprising even me. I run down the requirements for the class, and when unsure of something I whisper to myself and get an answer. Their mouths agape I usually don’t make the first day anything important, simply letting them adjust to their teacher. I notice a couple of students, however, one rather skinny with a pair of glasses and another quite heavyset seeming not surprised but rather shifty, like they were planning something. I feel the roof of my head again after class and in the bathroom I see that the leader has decorated his roof in solid gold.

Before I go to bed, when everybody on me is turning their lights off, I talk to the leader. The image of those two students is still stuck in my mind, and I tell him that I’m not comfortable with his choice of decoration. He seems offended, and his wife walks in and tells me they did this for me too, she thought I would appreciate it. Well, it is quite pretty. I guess I’m just being paranoid; I shouldn’t put too much thought into this of all things. I apologize for being any trouble and shut my blinds for bed.

A couple of weeks go by and I’m getting looks from everybody on campus, I can almost see the shimmer in their eyes and I begin to appreciate this new look. I decide to go out. I don’t usually do this but everybody said I should go see a play. I buy tickets to see The Arsonists at the theater in town and it’s the talk of my houses. In class I don’t see those two students, which I suppose isn’t out of the ordinary for them. When I go into town that night I see everything absolutely buzzing, it’s magical. The noise from the crowds and the whizzing of the cars at the crosswalk makes my windows rattle ever so slightly. Despite having lived so long I’m very tentative about how what I do and where I go, so this moves something deep inside me. I cross the crosswalk with the crowd of people and the glittering sign of the theater glints off my gold roof. Walking inside and very gently taking a seat, the chair is soft and the air smells like concession stands and culture. I watch the play with a great intensity.

As the play draws to a close and the house lights come on, I stand and take the new year’s clapper out of my pocket and clap with that so I don’t smash those who live in my hands. I feel a kind of trembling in my heart and realize it’s the sound of all my little people clapping and cheering. It’s a wonderful feeling, and I decide to do this much more often. Exiting the theater, I begin to write in my journal what a great night this was. Crossing the crosswalk with the rest of the people around me, I feel a tentative stress for some reason. I discount it and continue writing, engrossed in my journal entry. Finally, crossing to the other side and walking away from all the other people I hear a collective “Watch out!” coming from within me.

Turning rapidly and with concern I see those two students who were not in class today. The heavyset one punches me in one of my windows, knocking me backwards, and cracking that window. The skinny one pins me down while the other one comes around to take my gold roof. I knew this would happen. I don’t want them to hurt the people in me, so I don’t plan on resisting. Suddenly, as though my skin were hot, the skinny one shouts in pain and jumps away, crashing into a car. He heavy one looks concerned and tries harder to pull my roof off, but he too jumps back in pain. Lifting my head up I see two swarms of people flood off of me, carrying torches and pitchforks. one towards either thief. They heavy one breaks and runs when they set his pants aflame, while the skinny one trembles in fear as they all rush up his legs and onto his head, carrying his glasses off him. Once they begin to head back towards me the skinny thief scrambles away and trips a couple of times. They all return to their respective homes, and the next week they melt down the last thief’s glasses and fix my window. All is well and right with the world, and before I settle in for bed, now I know that I don’t have to be afraid anymore. They can take care of themselves just fine, and sometimes, even me.