I was in bed, struggling to find a comfortable position, so I let my hand dangle off the side of the mattress,

Under normal circumstances I’d never have done this, but my hand was hot and in the way no matter where I tucked it so I slipped it off the side and hoped for the best. And for the first few minutes everything was fine, I was dozing off, I even began to believe that all those years of making sure my feet and hands were tucked safely beneath the covers was all for nothing. And then a hand slipped its fingers through mine and held on gently. Now here was a conundrum. Technically speaking, I’d extended the invitation. And they weren’t pulling or even holding on too tight. So I kept holding their hand. And the more I held their hand the more I wondered about them, about who they were, and why they’d spent the entire thirty-six years of my life under my bed. I began to feel sad at the thought that all this time they wanted to feel close to me, to hold hands or tickle my feet, and here I was avoiding them, thinking they might drag me down to hell. Boy was I wrong, that clearly couldn’t be further from the truth! This was a gentle hand that fit perfectly in my own. I loosened my grip softly and straightened my fingers and they pressed theirs to mine, bending at the tips. Our hands were the exact same size! What a funny coincidence! So then they must be something like me. No wonder they fit so perfectly under the bed. I considered what I might do to improve their quality of living. I could leave food, but then I thought better of that. They clearly don’t eat food or I would have noticed food missing (I live alone) and I didn’t want to risk inviting pests into the home. They may have a fear of insects. I decided that the kindest thing I could do would be to liberate them entirely and invite them to come out from under the bed and live with me as an equal. What more could I want in a roommate? By all accounts they were considerate, would not increase the food bill, did not smoke or drink and had never rode a bicycle (we only had space inside to store one). I thought how nice it would be after all these years for them to come out and stretch and take a hot shower. The thought alone was immensely gratifying and I decided I’d even lend them my best towel for the occasion. Being that they were around my size, I could lend them some clothes, too. The bags in the hallway closet still had sweatpants and other things intended for donation. I’d wash those for them. How grateful they’d feel to have been under the bed of such a considerate man all these years. Sleeping arrangements seemed simple enough, too. They could continue sleeping under the bed (I was certain they’d appreciate the familiarity) and spend their days watching television or sitting on the balcony observing the city below. They’d learn about the world. I could teach them to read, to cook. We would be a family. You can see how taken I was by all of these ideas, so taken I didn’t even realized they’d let go of my hand. It was then that I allowed myself to slip into a deep sleep but not before committing to the idea that I would extend the invitation later this week. It simply couldn’t wait. When I woke up I was feeling refreshed and invigorated and set to work immediately on cleaning up for my guest. I emptied the garbages and washed out the bins, wiped down the fridge, sprayed the shower and scrubbed the grout. I cleaned the toilet and did the laundry. I was very mindful going in and out of the bedroom now in case they were taking a nap. All those years of stomping around mindlessly at all hours of the day. How thoughtless I’d been. Finally the condo was prepared and I came home from work the next day with a bottle of wine and lay in bed still in clothes from the office. My best suit. I wanted to make an excellent first impression. I let my hand dangle and within a couple minutes the same fingers joined with mine. I gave a gentle squeeze and began to speak. I had a speech prepared and they listened patiently. I said first that I was sorry I misjudged them. That I understood now that not everything that hides is a monster. I explained the arrangement I’d come up with and asked if they’d like to come out and see the world. Then I said that before they answered I felt I should share some house rules. For example, don’t leave the bar of soap sitting in water. Don’t let the cat out into the hall. And so on. Once I was satisfied with the parameters of our co-habitation I asked them to come out and have a look around the place, to see if they liked it. When nothing happened I gave a little squeeze and tug and said Don’t be afraid. They had some difficulty squeezing out from under the bed and when they stood up I saw that my neighbour all these years was a man who looked the spitting image of me. I wondered whether he saw what I saw so I led him to the bathroom mirror for a side by side comparison but felt sorry for doing that when I noticed he had no mirror image. I didn’t want him thinking I was rubbing my existence in his face so I moved on quickly to show him the rest of the condo. He opened up more and more and seemed particularly excited about the prospect of a shower and new clothes. Poor guy was still wearing pyjamas identical to a pair I’d had when I was small. Blue cotton pants and t-shirt with red race cars on a green roadway. I would often stay awake at night tracing the roadway down my legs when I couldn’t sleep. He’d completely outgrown them now and his legs and arms were out in the open. I tried not to think of all the cold nights he spent on the floor. I led him to the bathroom and explained how to use everything, how to wash himself, and I put a clean sweatsuit on the top of the toilet. I had a last minute change of heart and instead of one of the sweatsuits meant for donation I gave him my best one. A new blue sweatsuit I had been keeping for the gym. He stayed in the bathroom a long time and when he came out he looked like a new man. I asked if he was hungry and he smiled and shook his head no. I showed him how to use the remote and where to find the garbage chute in the hall. I told him my work and gym schedule and when he could expect me home each day. I showed him how to use the stove and refill the water filter. How to feed the cat. I showed him how many push-ups I can do now and he seemed very impressed and even tried some himself. Then, when we sat down to watch my mystery show, he took my hand and clutched it intensely. He was scared. I told him Don’t worry, we’re not afraid of these sorts of things anymore. He lightened his grip and eventually put his head down on my lap and went to sleep. He had had a big day. I stroked the hair away from his brow until late, and then when it was time for me to go to bed I took a blanket and tucked him in neatly on the couch. Of course I wouldn’t have him sleep under the bed ever again. The thought alone was enough to burn my eyes. I’d have to come up with a better sleeping arrangement than the couch, too. When I went to bed I stayed awake a long time, looking at the ceiling. I’d let him down but I would make it up to him. I would take better care of us both. I would take him to the doctor, and in the summer we could go camping. He would need paper and colouring pencils to stay busy while I was at work. I would bring home treats, buy him silly putty. Maybe I’d surprise him with a teddy. I knew exactly the kind he would like. I was getting excited so I took a few deep breaths. Then I traced the invisible roadway on my thighs until I fell asleep.