It was one of those beautiful, humid evenings when sneaks come out of their dens and snoop on the fingers peeking out from under the covers. Even me and Sneak got the urge to tease some little fingers. The kids weren’t afraid of us anymore, so we decided to go somewhere else.
Plus, when you wake up the kids, they usually cry and I feel sorry for them. But when you wake up the adults, they scream and swear and it’s so much fun.
But I don’t think anyone in our block of flats was sleeping that night except the kids. It looked like a very boring night. But then Sneak got an idea.
“Let’s have a race,” he said. “Let’s compete who can run down the stairs first? The finish line will be at the front door.”
“All right, let’s do it. Three, two, one – go!”
We rolled down like water, leaping down the stairs and turning down the corridors, at times we slid on our stomachs. We were making so much noise that people were peeking out of the door to see what was going on.
I was almost at the finish line when a door opened and the hallway lit up. The janitor stood between the doorframes and stared out into the hallway. I immediately ducked and stayed put.
“That sounds like a herd of elephants running around in here!” The janitor shouted down the hallway, assuming there were some mischievous children running around. Then he noticed a black clump in the hallway.
“We need to buy the cleaning lady a new mop. It’s shedding hair ,” he turned to his wife.
“It looks like it fell off completely, dear. I’ll buy a new mop tomorrow.”
Right on cue, the door closed. Good thing they didn’t want to go throw it away. Mop, phew. I quickly made my way to the entrance where we set our finish line. Sneak was already there.
“First, first, now you stay cursed,” Sneak was jumping, puffing up with pride.
“That’s not fair, if the janitor hadn’t come out I would have been first,” I frowned.
“So another race up to our floor, huh?”
“Deal!”
Sneak started the race and the two furballs surged forward. First, we almost bumped into each other at the bottom of the stairs. Then I crashed into a vase and knocked over a flower in the mezzanine. Sneak was about to taunt me, but as he turned around, he wasn’t looking where he was running and crashed right into the shoes on the doormat of an apartment. The shoes scattered to the side and Sneak slipped across the hallway on the mat. He looked like Aladdin on a magic carpet.
I took advantage of the situation and outran him. On the fifth floor, a mop that someone had left behind got in my way. I dodged it. But the floor was freshly mopped (damn Mrs. Simon), so I slipped and crashed right into the door of her apartment.
For a moment I had no idea what had happened. But then the door opened, and Mrs. Simon came running out, screaming. That startled me, so I took off so fast that I found myself right behind Sneak on the fifth floor. I ran through the shoes and threw them all over the place.
Mrs. Simon’s screams woke up Mr. Carlos. The light came on and we were left standing on the stairs. We crouched and watched Mr. Carlos run out of the apartment in his crocs. He was in a hurry, he hadn’t even turned on the light, and it so happened that he tripped over one of the scattered shoes, slipped on the doormat, and instead of going down the stairs, he sat on the stairs on his butt. And because Mr. Carlos was so big, he went straight down the stairs on his butt. He stopped only in front of Mrs. Simon, where a mop fell into his arms.
She immediately stopped screaming and started laughing horribly. Me and Sneak were giggling too.
“What happened to you, Martha?” he asked Mrs. Simon.
“I thought that there were some wild cats chasing each other,” she continued laughing, wiping away her tears of laughter. “You are very kind to come and rescue me. I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“I haven’t slept yet anyway,” said Mr. Carlos. “I wanted to go ask you something, but I didn’t know how. Well, since I am sitting here before you, my dear Martha, I want to ask you: Will you marry me?”
Mr. Carlos threw off the mop, knelt down before Mrs. Simon, took her hand, and fished a ring from somewhere in his dressing-gown.
“Well, see how we helped them,” said Sneak, watching the two doves purr their “yeses”.
“Hmm, I guess there’s going to be a wedding,” I agreed.
“Definitely. I hope it’s at night. I feel like having a wedding cake.”
“You’re turning into old Hjunt, Sneak. He’s always thinking about food, too.”
“Anyway, whoever’s last in bed is a stinking unwashed foot,” Sneak went back to the race.
We both finished the race at the same time, jumped into our beds and marvelled at how nicely everything had turned out. After all, every fairy tale ends with a wedding. So good night, kids, and watch out for doormats, flower pots, shoes and mops so you don’t end up sliding down the stairs on your butt.