Libby drawled, “just a cup?”
Gary Gooding pulled a plain brown cereal box out of his briefcase. “A cup of Normal should be plenty for a smart woman like you. More than enough, I’d say.” He produced a glass measuring cup from the pack on his shoulders and opened the metal spout on the box.
Libby was about to warn him that he’d have to step away from this part of the vortex if he expected anything to pour downward into that cup. But she glimpsed a flash of blue through the living room window and heard the growl of an engine nearing, then fading. Fabritus was back and circling in toward the house.
“Quick, they’re here!” Libby tugged Gary through the living room, skirting the haze in the dining room through which a bustling street in Paris flashed into existence, then out, and onward into the laundry room where a waterfall roared upward from the floor and concealed the quantum gyroscope.
“Waterfall,” Gary said. “Clever.”
“Shhh. I don’t want them to think I couldn’t get rid of one annoying salesman.” Libby closed the door.
Gary chuckled. “No, we wouldn’t want that.”
Libby put her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry, I mean, I know it’s your job, but you couldn’t have come at a worse time.”
“Or perhaps the best time?”
“Pretty sure it’s the worst.”
“Let’s see, shall we?”
The growl of the car engine making another round toward the house rumbled past the room.
“Let me leave you with a sample of the product.” He tipped the box and a stream of brown dirt sifted into the measuring cup.
“That’s dirt.”
Gary smiled. “Not dirt. This is Normal. A cup of this and your visitors won’t be able to find a single fault with anything it touches.”
“Right. I pour it all over the house and they’ll magically believe a coating of dirt is a good thing.”
“No, but sometimes strange solutions pave the way for discovery and advancement,” he said. “Solutions like your quantum gyro have changed the world.”
“ Will change the world,” Libby corrected. “We’re not even on the market yet.” There was something funny about this man and his cup of dirt. Something funnier about his casual knowledge of their nearly-secret gyro. “What company did you say you represented?”
“Anything For You.”
“And where is that located?” she asked.
“That’s a long story, actually.”
Outside, a car door slammed. They were coming!
“No time,” Libby said. “Give me the Normal. What do I owe you?”
“This is a free gift. If you like it, promise to buy the box when I come back this way next week.”
“How much is the box?”
“A thousand bucks.”
Libby raised one eyebrow. “This better be nothing less than miraculous.”
“You wouldn’t expect anything less from this company, Libby.”
Something was odd about that sentence too — had she told him her name? She heard the living room door open.
She was officially out of time to puzzle out the puzzling salesman.
“Libby,” Fabritus called, “we’re back.”
A woman’s sharp tone carried to the laundry room. “Oh, my. This is so . . .”
Libby winced.
“. . . so lived in.”
“Real charmer,” Gary nodded toward the living room. “Good luck with that. I mean it.”
“Just sprinkle the um . . . Normal on everything?” Libby asked, eyeing the cup doubtfully.
“Put it where it will do the most good. On the counters, the rugs, the corners. Be careful. It’s concentrated.”
“Libby?” Fabritus called again.
Libby peeked out the laundry room door, but couldn’t see anything through the tropical rainforest where there kitchen should be. The gryo seemed to be acting up even more than usual today. Probably some scientist somewhere poking a new hole through space or time.
“Remember, a little Normal goes a long way,” he said.
“Got it. Thanks.” Libby took the cup. She shook his hand and he slipped a card into her palm. Smooth move.
“There’s a door around here
Gary Gooding pulled a plain brown cereal box out of his briefcase. “A cup of Normal should be plenty for a smart woman like you. More than enough, I’d say.” He produced a glass measuring cup from the pack on his shoulders and opened the metal spout on the box.
Libby was about to warn him that he’d have to step away from this part of the vortex if he expected anything to pour downward into that cup. But she glimpsed a flash of blue through the living room window and heard the growl of an engine nearing, then fading. Fabritus was back and circling in toward the house.
“Quick, they’re here!” Libby tugged Gary through the living room, skirting the haze in the dining room through which a bustling street in Paris flashed into existence, then out, and onward into the laundry room where a waterfall roared upward from the floor and concealed the quantum gyroscope.
“Waterfall,” Gary said. “Clever.”
“Shhh. I don’t want them to think I couldn’t get rid of one annoying salesman.” Libby closed the door.
Gary chuckled. “No, we wouldn’t want that.”
Libby put her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry, I mean, I know it’s your job, but you couldn’t have come at a worse time.”
“Or perhaps the best time?”
“Pretty sure it’s the worst.”
“Let’s see, shall we?”
The growl of the car engine making another round toward the house rumbled past the room.
“Let me leave you with a sample of the product.” He tipped the box and a stream of brown dirt sifted into the measuring cup.
“That’s dirt.”
Gary smiled. “Not dirt. This is Normal. A cup of this and your visitors won’t be able to find a single fault with anything it touches.”
“Right. I pour it all over the house and they’ll magically believe a coating of dirt is a good thing.”
“No, but sometimes strange solutions pave the way for discovery and advancement,” he said. “Solutions like your quantum gyro have changed the world.”
“ Will change the world,” Libby corrected. “We’re not even on the market yet.” There was something funny about this man and his cup of dirt. Something funnier about his casual knowledge of their nearly-secret gyro. “What company did you say you represented?”
“Anything For You.”
“And where is that located?” she asked.
“That’s a long story, actually.”
Outside, a car door slammed. They were coming!
“No time,” Libby said. “Give me the Normal. What do I owe you?”
“This is a free gift. If you like it, promise to buy the box when I come back this way next week.”
“How much is the box?”
“A thousand bucks.”
Libby raised one eyebrow. “This better be nothing less than miraculous.”
“You wouldn’t expect anything less from this company, Libby.”
Something was odd about that sentence too — had she told him her name? She heard the living room door open.
She was officially out of time to puzzle out the puzzling salesman.
“Libby,” Fabritus called, “we’re back.”
A woman’s sharp tone carried to the laundry room. “Oh, my. This is so . . .”
Libby winced.
“. . . so lived in.”
“Real charmer,” Gary nodded toward the living room. “Good luck with that. I mean it.”
“Just sprinkle the um . . . Normal on everything?” Libby asked, eyeing the cup doubtfully.
“Put it where it will do the most good. On the counters, the rugs, the corners. Be careful. It’s concentrated.”
“Libby?” Fabritus called again.
Libby peeked out the laundry room door, but couldn’t see anything through the tropical rainforest where there kitchen should be. The gryo seemed to be acting up even more than usual today. Probably some scientist somewhere poking a new hole through space or time.
“Remember, a little Normal goes a long way,” he said.
“Got it. Thanks.” Libby took the cup. She shook his hand and he slipped a card into her palm. Smooth move.
“There’s a door around here
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