Hold on, they're hungry. [It's not certain, but Mohammed wants to be certain.] And I've been gone all day.
[He walks to the side of the table, where a large birdseed bag is conveniently leaning against a leg. He steps onto a bulge in the bag and grips the plastic.]
[She automatically starts to follow him into the room before she hears that last comment; she freezes in place, looking up into their beady, enormous eyes.]
Ahaha, yeah. Um. You feed them, and... let me know if you need help! Or when it's safe to come help you! Good birdies.
[Going through the same motions from this morning, Mohammed takes off his sweater, scoops up a sweaterfull of birdseed, and hoists it over his shoulder. He has punched the bag into a better ramp after breakfast, so there's no terrifying leap of faith at the top, just a very tall step to climb over.]
I'm home! [He waves an arm.] I brought you dinner!
[He...sound very cheerful. Different from how Tuuri has seen him speak before. Even though she can't see his face, she can just feel him smiling as he opens the cage door and steps in.]
Sorry Richie, there's no grapes today. I was too busy to get any. [The birds abandon staring at Tuuri and flock to the bottom of the cage. They poke Mohammed as he pours the birdseed into its container.] Whitney, cut it out. I'm too small to bite. [He laughs and pets his youngest bird. Whitney is a good baby. She's soft. Easy to pet at this size.]
[This sure is... an interesting side to Mohammed. He's talking to the birds like he's a mom. She's so busy staring after this honestly strange, if adorable, scene that it takes her a moment to realize that the birds have (finally) stopped looking at her as if they wanted to peck her open. Tentatively, she takes a few steps further into the room, eyes still trained on Mohammed laughing and cuddling his bird.]
Aww, they like you so much! [Wait. Terrible idea.] Hey, is there any chance of you getting a ride on the birds...?
[Another bird cuddles under his free arm, and he slips his arm around to give both of his children a hug. Maybe being small won't be so bad.
...Tuuri is here. He forgot all about that. His eyes snap open and lets go of his birds.]
Yes. I spend time each day looking after them. [He's cool. He's a cool, mature guy despite what Tuuri just saw.]...And they're too small to ride. We're about their size.
["They're too small" is probably the sensible pet owner response, but Tuuri can't help but picture them making it work, somehow. Surely they could just straddle them and ride them like dragons through the air, or something? At least Tuuri's fixated on this and not how downright moe Mohammed is being right now.]
Oh well. It was worth a try. [The birds do look enviably cuddly... but she's still convinced she'd get a peck in the face if she tried to touch them.] Are they friendly?
[Or tie them up to half a cardboard box and ride around on a budgie chariot.
It would be incredible.]
Mostly. Whitney is good with people, Prince is more aggressive, Micheal's shy, and Richie prefers interacting with the other birds. [He scratches the top of Michael's head.] They won't hurt you if you don't scare them.
Mmm... [She really wants to go up and try playing with Whitney at least, but she stares up what she'd have to climb to get up there, and her legs twitch in protest even thinking about it.]
Ahaha, maybe on the way back. If that's okay. Or maybe when we're big again. [They're definitely going to be big again, so it's not a problem, right?] I think I have to sit down first, haha...
[and sit she does, to rest for as long as she can before Mohammed finishes up with the birds.]
[He might stay here forever if he didn't have anything important to do. You appreciate pets a lot more when you shrink and getting to your room is a workout in of itself.
Farewell, budgies, he will see you in the morning.
They chirp after him when he pulls the cage door open and steps out. If - maybe when - they get big again, he's going to make up for his neglect the entire weekend.]
Are you tired? [The birdseed bag goes thwump when he jumps onto it, and Mohammed slips the rest of the way to the floor, fortunately stumbling and not tripping onto his face.]
Yes. [she says bluntly, though she sighs and (reluctantly) pushes herself up.] But I want to drop the pictures off with the police and save everything, so I'll be okay! I can push through it!
I'll repay you once we're done, I promise. [Because he needs a treat, too. He's ready to collapse on his bed and sleep. The call of duty and justice are all that keeps him going.
He walks past Tuuri and into his room, which is just as neat as she would expect it to be, apart from the not-so-made bed. Drawers shut (he remembered to push them when he was done dressing), noting on the carpet, bookshelf organized, desk clean.]
On my desk. I tried to get on the chair this morning, but I was too short to reach it.
[Justice cannot rest, and neither can they. Mohammed's room is not a surprise, though she takes a moment to appreciate that they aren't going to her room to pick up a collection of photographs, or she'd be pretty embarrassed.
The chair is a problem, though. You know what would have been a good solution to this problem? RIDING A BIRD CHARIOT UP TO THE DESK.] Hmm... do you mind if we pile the books up to reach the seat? We can probably climb up the back once we're there.
They're...heavy, but we can try. [Because guess who keeps hardcover history books on the bottom shelf like an asshole? This guy.] I have paperback books on the third shelf if we need any.
[He's sure most of them are smart people literature. Nothing embarrassing. His reputation will be safe.]
[Man Mohammed, who arranges their bedroom without thinking about how easy it would be for a 6 inch tall person to navigate? Serious oversight here.
Tuuri looks up at the heavy, thick history books that are taller than she is-- ooh, that one looks pretty interesting, she should ask to take a look at it once they're regular size again-- but concedes that he has a point.] Mm, I think we might squish ourselves if we try to move that one, but... I can try to climb up onto the third shelf and toss a few down? I-If you don't mind.
[She realizes that she is suggesting that she throw someone else's books to the ground, which is probably the rudest thing she's said all day, so she follows that up with a quick] --But if you do mind it's totally okay! I can keep going and try to jump to the desk instead! Or we could try to throw a rope to the desktop and climb across it like in a spy movie! We don't have to move the books!
Well... [she looks up (way, way up) at the third shelf and sighs.] I'll see if I can get them down safely. If not, we'll think of something else! It'll be fine! And if you have a pile of clothes or something that you can put at the bottom of the bookshelf, even better!
[She starts to climb the bookcase, careful to avoid kicking or scuffing up the books on her way... as soon as she starts climbing, she realizes all the ways that she could damage Mohammed's stuff. This was a terrible idea! What was she thinking!] I'm sorry! I can stop and turn back and we can think of something else! I shouldn't have suggested it at all!
[Clothes. A brilliant idea. The ones in the drawers remain large, and they are of good enough quality to withstand a few books dropping on them. He'll just have to pick those that don't have to be dry cleaned.
He's already made one trip and is on the way back dragging a second shirt. He's shouts back up at her.] Don't worry! I'll keep an eye out when you're climbing down! If you'd rather jump, I can bunch up my clothes!
[...She was talking about being too scared to go up, right?]
O-okay, thanks! [Oh man, he sounds so confident in her!! How can she back out now? She just takes a deep breath and resolves to muscle through it, because what else can she do at this point? Eyes squeezed shut, she makes it up to the shelf with the paperbacks with an enormous sigh of relief.]
Okay, heads up! I'm going to start sending them down now... Do you want me to try passing them down to you? [Maybe if she gently lowers the book down, Mohammed will be able to grab it...? She starts tugging one of them at random, only to pause and look at the cover.] Ahaha, hey, I know this one!
[She knows it? Tuuri has always been an avid reader, so Mohammed isn't all too surprised. It's a compilation of writings about old, pre-writing cultures on various continents: Scandinavia, North America, Southern Africa, Australia, etc. It's a must-have for any history nut.]
Which is it?
[Good thing it's nothing embarrassing. Wouldn't it be terrible if it marked the end of his nonfiction and literature section?While Tuuri can only see the exposed back cover of the following book to the right, the description clearly describes it as a buddy cop thriller comedy. There's a stupid joke in one of the reviews.
He silently prays she remains on the left side of the shelf and hands over the Arabic classics.]
The collection of protohistories! This one has a great section on pre-Swedish Finland, I've probably read it a hundred times! [She passes it down to him as carefully as possible, given that it's both a favorite of hers and very heavy.] Ready... there!
[Time to reach for the next one. She pulls the one to the right of the hole next, looks at the title, and laughs.] I like this one too!
Careful! It's one of the older books! [He holds out his hands, and as the book falls, he attempts to grab the spine. Instead, it smacks his outstretched palms, knocks them downward, and lands on the cushioned floor. Hey, at least he slowed its fall.
He lifts and puts it aside. Next.]
Which on is it? [What was on the left side? Is it another book she read in school?]
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[And loud. She plugs one ear up to try to block out the high-pitched chirping, a lot more intimidating from down here.]
Um, I don't know if they like me either. M-maybe we should keep going.
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[He walks to the side of the table, where a large birdseed bag is conveniently leaning against a leg. He steps onto a bulge in the bag and grips the plastic.]
You can follow once I calm them down.
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Ahaha, yeah. Um. You feed them, and... let me know if you need help! Or when it's safe to come help you! Good birdies.
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I'm home! [He waves an arm.] I brought you dinner!
[He...sound very cheerful. Different from how Tuuri has seen him speak before. Even though she can't see his face, she can just feel him smiling as he opens the cage door and steps in.]
Sorry Richie, there's no grapes today. I was too busy to get any. [The birds abandon staring at Tuuri and flock to the bottom of the cage. They poke Mohammed as he pours the birdseed into its container.] Whitney, cut it out. I'm too small to bite. [He laughs and pets his youngest bird. Whitney is a good baby. She's soft. Easy to pet at this size.]
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Aww, they like you so much! [Wait. Terrible idea.] Hey, is there any chance of you getting a ride on the birds...?
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...Tuuri is here. He forgot all about that. His eyes snap open and lets go of his birds.]
Yes. I spend time each day looking after them. [He's cool. He's a cool, mature guy despite what Tuuri just saw.]...And they're too small to ride. We're about their size.
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Oh well. It was worth a try. [The birds do look enviably cuddly... but she's still convinced she'd get a peck in the face if she tried to touch them.] Are they friendly?
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It would be incredible.]
Mostly. Whitney is good with people, Prince is more aggressive, Micheal's shy, and Richie prefers interacting with the other birds. [He scratches the top of Michael's head.] They won't hurt you if you don't scare them.
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Ahaha, maybe on the way back. If that's okay. Or maybe when we're big again. [They're definitely going to be big again, so it's not a problem, right?] I think I have to sit down first, haha...
[and sit she does, to rest for as long as she can before Mohammed finishes up with the birds.]
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Farewell, budgies, he will see you in the morning.
They chirp after him when he pulls the cage door open and steps out. If - maybe when - they get big again, he's going to make up for his neglect the entire weekend.]
Are you tired? [The birdseed bag goes thwump when he jumps onto it, and Mohammed slips the rest of the way to the floor, fortunately stumbling and not tripping onto his face.]
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He walks past Tuuri and into his room, which is just as neat as she would expect it to be, apart from the not-so-made bed. Drawers shut (he remembered to push them when he was done dressing), noting on the carpet, bookshelf organized, desk clean.]
On my desk. I tried to get on the chair this morning, but I was too short to reach it.
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The chair is a problem, though. You know what would have been a good solution to this problem? RIDING A BIRD CHARIOT UP TO THE DESK.] Hmm... do you mind if we pile the books up to reach the seat? We can probably climb up the back once we're there.
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[He's sure most of them are smart people literature. Nothing embarrassing. His reputation will be safe.]
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Tuuri looks up at the heavy, thick history books that are taller than she is-- ooh, that one looks pretty interesting, she should ask to take a look at it once they're regular size again-- but concedes that he has a point.] Mm, I think we might squish ourselves if we try to move that one, but... I can try to climb up onto the third shelf and toss a few down? I-If you don't mind.
[She realizes that she is suggesting that she throw someone else's books to the ground, which is probably the rudest thing she's said all day, so she follows that up with a quick] --But if you do mind it's totally okay! I can keep going and try to jump to the desk instead! Or we could try to throw a rope to the desktop and climb across it like in a spy movie! We don't have to move the books!
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[And. He might want to read those later. Poor books. At least they are a few years old at most.]
If you're fine with it. Jumping the desk might not be feasible.
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[She starts to climb the bookcase, careful to avoid kicking or scuffing up the books on her way... as soon as she starts climbing, she realizes all the ways that she could damage Mohammed's stuff. This was a terrible idea! What was she thinking!] I'm sorry! I can stop and turn back and we can think of something else! I shouldn't have suggested it at all!
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He's already made one trip and is on the way back dragging a second shirt. He's shouts back up at her.] Don't worry! I'll keep an eye out when you're climbing down! If you'd rather jump, I can bunch up my clothes!
[...She was talking about being too scared to go up, right?]
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Okay, heads up! I'm going to start sending them down now... Do you want me to try passing them down to you? [Maybe if she gently lowers the book down, Mohammed will be able to grab it...? She starts tugging one of them at random, only to pause and look at the cover.] Ahaha, hey, I know this one!
[Hopefully it's not anything EMBARRASSING...]
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Which is it?
[Good thing it's nothing embarrassing. Wouldn't it be terrible if it marked the end of his nonfiction and literature section?While Tuuri can only see the exposed back cover of the following book to the right, the description clearly describes it as a buddy cop thriller comedy. There's a stupid joke in one of the reviews.
He silently prays she remains on the left side of the shelf and hands over the Arabic classics.]
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[Time to reach for the next one. She pulls the one to the right of the hole next, looks at the title, and laughs.] I like this one too!
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He lifts and puts it aside. Next.]
Which on is it? [What was on the left side? Is it another book she read in school?]