"Through the Winds of Illinois" by Anna Frangenberg
You know, seeing as I’m petrified of heights, it’s probably not the best thing
to be stuck on the rooftop of the Willis Tower in Chicago. But when you’re being chased by a runny-nosed gremlin-looking janitor named Humdinger, the super-nosed villain, it’s sort of hard not to be.
Believe it or not, I didn’t choose to be here. On a breezy summer morning in June, I’d much rather be sipping iced tea in some swimming pool somewhere. But of course, I, Kevin Muttingberg, am not lucky enough for that to happen.
As I stand there, palms sweating and holding on for dear life, Humdinger is
nowhere to be seen. I let out a big sigh of relief- but then I hear it. Loud footsteps and faint sniffles. This isn’t over. He can smell me and I’ve got nowhere to go but down.
I meet Humdinger’s cold dark eyes as he turns the corner, the sound of
sniffling echoing in the town below. I look around desperately for an escape. Then, as he starts to shuffle towards me, I take notice of his shirt. He’s wearing a T-shirt with a design of my favorite band, The Beatles.
So, as a final resort, I ask him through the winds of Illinois, “Name every
Beatle song,” and I point to his shirt.
At first he looks confused, but slowly his face contorts to a snotty glee.
“Come Together, Here Comes the Sun, Let It Be . . .”
While he lists the various songs with excruciating detail and accuracy, as
only Humdinger can, I do the impossible. With a running start, I jump off the rooftop and catch the edge, bracing with my legs to smash through the window.
Tumbling into the viewing room and causing much alarm, I don’t dare look behind me while I slam open the doors to the stairs and start the most arduous and demanding workout I have ever experienced in my sixty two years of life.
After the first couple of flights, I hear the doors crash open and the ever
familiar wonky clown-shoe footsteps and dangerously powerful sniff of
Humdinger’s super-nose. With that nose of his, he could easily sneeze his way right to me in the blink of an eye. Quick, what can I do? What can I do?!
VOOM!
Something falls before my eyes, crassly screaming in panic. Humdinger must have tripped on his clown-shoes because here he lies before me,
all in a knot with a tear in his eye. He looks so ridiculous, I can’t help but giggle. But that giggle quickly grows into a roar of laughter, and in my humor, I see Humdinger is uncontrollably chuckling along with me. Strange, he looked very hurt just a moment ago.
Even when I stop laughing, Humdinger continues, until he’s practically
weeping.
“Humdinger, are- are you okay?” I ask, genuinely concerned at this point. He responds only with a mix of laughter and coughing, a painful grin plastered on his face.
After a moment, Humdinger has enough breath to wheeze, “Your laughter,
it’s infectious. I- can’t- stop!”
My laughter? Infectious?
But then it hits me. That’s my superpower. Infectious laughter.
So I take my chance while he’s still recovering and sprint with what speed I
have down the last couple flights of stairs and straight out the doors into the streets of Chicago. I’ve got to get lost in the crowd, otherwise he’ll find me instantly, and with my red sweater and overalls, it won’t be difficult. So I dive into the bustling people and hastily walk down the street and soon into an alleyway.
But not long before I catch my breath, there’s that sniffle. The sniffle that
haunts my dreams. Seeing no other way out, I quickly hide behind a dumpster and start to pray that there might be a sliver of a chance that I can escape this mess with my life.
“Oi! Did I stutter??” I hear yelling from the other side of the street as
Humdinger sprints onto the scene.
Oh dear. Could it be?
No, not possibly. But-
“Ayo! What you repping?!” Lines of incoherent screaming and roaring start to string together a whole chorus of voices. Humdinger looks down to his shirt, an article of clothing that had once brought him as much joy as it brought me is now his demise. He knows just as well as I do which end of town we’re in. All British ties are banned here due to a nasty falling out a gang had with some friend.
But Humdinger notices a little too late. He glances over to where I’m hidden and mouths, “Oh dang-” before-
BANG!
The sound pierces the air, and Humdinger falls down limp.