More Conversations with Bob the Car Wight

More Conversations with Bob the Car Wight

I was walking by the SUV the other day when I saw Bob the Car Wight sitting on the hood.   This time, he had a very mismatched red and green plaid coat, orange hunting cap (which suspiciously looked like the one I had lost last season), and a fuchsia scarf striped with purple.  He was rubbing his hands together and blowing on gardening gloves he was wearing that were way too big for his fingers.  Now, imagine this all contrasting with his blue skin.  Eeek.  All in all, a sight to make sore eyes. 

“Whoa, Bob!  Are you trying to blind me with your fashion sense?” I quipped.

Bob rubbed his hands together and blew on the gloves’ fingertips as if he were trying to get warm.  “Like you know anything about fashion, mismatched girl,” he snorted.  He rubbed his hands some more.  “These gloves suck.”

I let the jab slide.  “What, are you cold?”

“What gave you the first hint, Einstein?” Bob glared at me.

“Well normally I’d say the blue skin, but seeing as that’s normal for you, I’d guess the weird get-up.”  I grinned at him.  “Don’t like our weather?”

“The weather was fine until it went from summer to winter in one day.”

“Well, that’s the Rockies for you.  I’d thought you’d be used to it by now since you’ve lived up here for years.”

“I’m used to garages.  You know, like indoors?  When are you cleaning out the garage so I can have a decent place to live?”


“It’s a little cluttered,” I admitted.  “But you’re a wight.  You’re supposed to be able to live damn near anywhere.  Well there’s no reason why you couldn’t stay there now.”

“Herman the roof rat doesn’t like me.”  Bob held up his hands.  “Do you have some spare mittens?”

I pondered that for a moment.  “The roof rat has a name?”

“Of course he does.  Everything does.  You just might not know it yet.”

“And his name is Herman?”

“Well, that was his name in a previous life.”  He wiggled his fingers at me.  “Mittens?”

“I’ll see what I can do.  I might be able to find some for you next time I go into town.”  I paused.  “But Herman?”

“Yeah, Hel decided she didn’t want him in Helheim so she sent him back to live as a rat.  She does that a lot with people who she really hates.”

“You mean they don’t go to Nástrǫnd and get chewed on by Níðhöggr?”

“Well, some of the really bad ones were giving the dragon gas. You wouldn’t believe how much damage to Niflheim it was causing when those farts light off.  One of those set fire to Hel’s hall some years back.  She really wasn’t amused.”

I laughed.

“I’m not joking.  You wouldn’t believe the cussing.  I think Hel invented new words just for that.”  Bob shuddered.  “She’s scary when she’s angry.”

“I bet,” I said.  I certainly had no desire to get on Hel’s bad side.  “Okay, so Herman the roof rat is being punished for..?”

“I don’t know.  He won’t tell me.  But he tried to goosestep in your garage.”

“Great, I have a Nazi rat.”  I sighed.  “Guess Hel won’t be upset when I trap his ass.”

Bob shrugged.  “She’ll just send him back as another rat.”

“Great, well maybe this time he’ll go to New York City instead of here.”

“Then you’ll have no excuse for cleaning out the garage,” Bob quipped.

“I’ll get right to it.”  I said, walking back to the house.

“Oh, and don’t forget the mittens!” Bob called after me.

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