The Nobleman's Masterpiece ✔

15 ALL THAT IS WRONG

Lydia made it three pegs farther this time before hysterics took her. "Let me down. Please, let me down."

"Just look up. Damn it. Stop looking down. You're doing so well."

Despite the tender tone, Lydia's body froze up. The prospect of going down was less appealing this time around due to the height. "I can't...I can't even jump off."

"Jump off? Don't you dare. Just wait. I'm coming up," Midge called.

Within a matter of seconds, Lydia felt a hand on her backside, trying to coax her to move.

"Come on. I've got you."

Lydia looked down into Midge's sullen blue eyes and grinned. "Well now, that feels nice." Her vision refocused and the possible drop below had her clinging to the wall again. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh. I can't."

"You can do it. Just tell yourself that you can."

"But I can't. Besides, we short people shouldn't fall from great heights."

"Nobody should," Midge grumbled.

"But we no doubt just plummet with a 'plop'. Like a plop, a total plop. That's no way for anyone to die."

Now it was Midge's shoulder pressed against Lydia's rear, urging her on. "Stop with the morbid imp-shit. You're not going to fall. Besides, it'd be a bit more of a squishing sound."

"Oh my gosh," Lydia wailed. "Let me down. Let me down."

Groaning, Midge tugged at her instead. "Okay. Down we go. Just keep your ass against me."

"Why couldn't you have said that an hour ago?" Lydia protested. "We could be laid up in a nice hotel suite right now, not risking our necks for imaginary lovers to catch imaginary gifts we'll never throw."

She didn't mean to complain all the way down, but it helped her nerves. Once her feet firmly touched the ground, she didn't move. Her joints just wouldn't respond.

"Oh geez. Hey," Midge said, cupping Lydia's face with both hands. "Hey...easy. Easy. Just calm down. Whooo. Breathe out with me."

Lydia did as she was told, but she would be forever grateful when Midge pulled her into a secure hug.

"I'm sorry. I thought you were over-exaggerating. But honestly, this is really the only way out. Short of walking into the Deadzone to find a clear spot, that is."

"No," Lydia muttered against Midge's shirt; fighting back the urge to gnaw at him. "I want to do it. It'll be a good memory to have—if I manage it."

Five minutes later, Lydia on Midge's back, arms wrapped around the E's neck, she muttered, "I really do appreciate this."

"Geez, you're heavier than you look," Midge said, swinging to catch yet another peg. "Where do you carry it all?"

"In muscle and curves, thank you very much." Lydia groaned, "Less talk and more climbing like a good servant. You're making me feel richer by the minute."

Midge grunted as he reached up for another perch. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just don't let go. I hear short people go plop when they fall from any height."

Eyes closed tight, Lydia muttered, "Shut up."

"You know," Midge said, straining. "More like a plop, plop, squish, splat sound. Hell, we're high enough up that you'd tumble and get a few good 'oh my goshes' out before you'd reach your final splat."

He chuckled.

"Shut. Up," Lydia begged. "Holy shit. Did my ears just pop?"

"Sure did. Plop, plop, splat."